A Night in the Lost World
by TLWScribes
Summary: A night in the Lost World.The completed story of a round robin, written by various fans of TLW!Written by: Caroline, Explorer, Aphrodite, Veronica 77, and Rockhound


As Veronica looks out into the evening sky, a light breeze tousles through her hair. She hasn't felt this happy in a long time. Malone is finally home and everything is back to normal now. It's as if nothing has changed, except for the recent edition of Finn. But she loves Finn as a sister: she wouldn't have it any other way. As she looks out, she sees something moving in the distance. It has to be something big, because the trees are moving as well. Veronica knows that it's probably just a T-Rex looking for another meal, but it seems that the trees are moving differently than they normally should. She shrugs it off. She has been working hard these last couple of days and needs a good night's sleep.

"Hello, Gorgeous. Long time no see", she heard.

She turns around, surprised. Malone is standing there with a picnic basket and two glasses. She hadn't been expecting that. She was just going to have some dried meat and fruit when she got home for dinner. Nothing too fancy.

"I hope you don't mind. I took the liberty of bringing dinner to you. You deserve it. You've worked so hard lately, that I thought you'd need the break," said Malone, all too eager. "I brought some wine as well. It's not the greatest stuff, but I think it'll be fine"

"That's sweet of you, Malone. I appreciate it a lot. We haven't gone on a picnic in so long! I've forgotten what it was like, almost. I missed you so much," replied Veronica, all too eager, herself.

"I know. I've missed you, too. Which is the main reason why I brought this to you. I thought we could talk."

"I'd like that," she admitted.

They both sat down and and got out the contents of the basket. It was like two teenagers in love, eager to please one another, yet holding back because they're not sure of themselves. But that's what they liked about each other. Every time they were together, something new seemed to happen between them. That certainly didn't happen to him when he was with Gladys, Malone mused. 

Veronica took out ham, cold chicken, a baguette of whole-wheat bread, Havarti chese, pickles, fruit, and a tapered green bottle of German wine. She was surprised to note that it was a Wehlener Sonnenuhr Spatlese, a Mosel from the famed J.J.Prum estate at Wehlen, one of the world's greatest wine houses. She assumed that the naive Ned Malone had asked his friend John Roxton or his sarcastic "significant other",the worldly Marguerite Krux, for wine advice. She smiled. Poor Ned. But he was learning...

"What did you do while you were away," asked Veronica.

"Oh, let's see. What did I do," replied Malone.

As he looked out he too saw the rustling in the trees. He thought it might be just a hungry T-Rex trying to find a meal. He didn't give it a second thought.

"I went to some villages. I think I saw some new ones, actually. These were people I had never seen before. But then again, you see something new here everyday. They were very kind, though. They gave me food and shelter. They even told me stories. I think. It was very hard to communicate with them. I think they once knew how to speak English, but it's been so long, they'd forgotten. But it was still fun. In one village, I think I was married to a young girl. She was maybe fifteen. Because when I tried to leave, they tried to restrain me. I got away with some scratches, but I never went that way again."

Laughing, they both looked out onto the valley floor. It reminded them of so much. Veronica, of her parents and her search for them. Malone, for his recent journey and all the things he wished he had done before he came here. Like tell Veronica his feelings about her.

They both sat there in silence for what seemed eternity. Both were content with enjoying the other's company, while not saying anything. Veronica and Malone certainly would have wanted to remain there together for hours. Their serenity lasted for only a few seconds, however, because they both heard a loud noise coming from the direction in where Marguerite and Roxton were exploring.

George Challenger sat in a chair near the western exposure of the Treehouse where he and his companions lived, with the lowering sun coming from behind him. He had a towel draped over his shoulders, and a young blonde woman named Finn was cutting his hair. She was nude, save for sandals and gold loop earrings, and she savored the feel of the sun on her back.

As she snipped with a large pair of scissors, Challenger reached behind her with his right hand and carressed her thigh affectionately, a brief gesture of joy in having her near, and nuturing him in this fashion. She quivered slightly and leaned her chest against his shoulders in a return display of joy in nearness. It was good to be in contact with him externally, for she was already within him, in his heart, as he was ever in hers. Since meeting over a year ago, Finn had been many things to Challenger: student, lab assistant, intellectual companion, and now...so much more

They had been reading Shakespeare, and were comparing MacBeth to Julius Caesar as historical figures. "I like Caesar the better of the two," said Finn. "He wasn't concerned solely with personal gain or nagged at by a greedy wife. He was ambitious, but for Rome as well as for himself. And he was such a giant among men, an icon! Like you, you big genius." She leaned around and kissed his cheek. Challenger murmured pleasurably, and their discussion continued as the first shadows of evening emerged.

When she was done with his hair and a close trim of his once scruffy beard, Finn flipped the cloth off Challenger's shoulders and pronounced him presentable. She had grown quite skilled in barbering these past few months, and groomed him about every two weeks, especially if their companions were away at the time.

Finn snapped the cloth smartly to clear it of loose hairs and folded it neatly on the windowsill. She came into his arms, kissing briefly as he ran his hands lightly down her shoulders and along her spine to gently fondle and cup her buttocks. "Is my butt too big?", she asked, only half concerned at his reply.

"No, Finn, it is in fact sculpted ideally for my hands. And for my eyes. Your "butt" is charming in both the tactile and visual senses. And you know it and are fishing for a compliment, I daresay." He chuckled.

Finn disengaged from their embrace and reached for a broom. She began sweeping up loose hair, commenting that she needed to clean up before her friend "V." returned and was "grossed out" at the mess.

"Will you boil some water in the kettle, George?", she asked. "The others will back soon, and they'll want tea with those little cakes we baked."

Challenger said, "Um. In a moment." He lifted a Zeiss 10X50B binocular from the table and went to the window to scan the jungle below the Treehouse. He swept the precise German glass over the horizon, casually noting a pair of pterodactyls gliding by in the distance, then swung his gaze lower. A few hundred yards out, Ned Malone, Veronica, and Assai, her Zanga Indian friend, were en route to the Treehouse. Assai was gesturinng urgently, tugging at Ned's sleeve.

"Nicole!", George called. He only occasionally used her real name, which they had discovered quite by chance not long ago, and usually when he wanted her particular attention or was whispering an endearment. "You had better put on some clothes. Ned, Veronica, and Assai are headed this way, and she's telling them something that appears to be distressing news. Most curious..."

"The 'most curious' thing here is you, George," quipped Finn as she dumped the contents of her dustpan into the trash barrel. "Professor Challenger, perennially curious, about the Earth and all that's on it. How far away are they?"

"They'll be here in a few minutes," he said. "I'd better boil water and check on the venison." They were roasting a haunch of brocket deer for dinner, and it should be ready soon after they'd had time for tea and cakes.

Finn grabbed George's shirt off the back of his chair and sniffed it. "This needs to go in the wash," she noted. "I'll bring you a fresh shirt." And she rushed up the stairs to their room on the next level.

When she returned, he was pouring water into the teapot, inhaling the fragrance of a high-grown Ceylon Dimbula tea. He set out cups, spoons, and cakes with honey, and pulled his chair around to face the elevator. Finn sat in his lap and leaned against him. She wore a light blue blouse made from cotton loomed in the Zanga village, and her brief khaki skirt was made from one of his old shirts. She still wore sandals, but had added a slim gold chain on her right ankle, to compliment earrings that had once been part of a pirate's treasure. She had tied the ends of the shirt well above her navel, and Challenger thought she was a vision from Heaven. Her hair was in a long pageboy cut. Challenger liked the way it swayed gently as she walked.

She stood, handing him a shirt, and when he had donned it, pushing in the tails, she stood by him, holding his left hand in both of hers, as they waited for Veronica, Malone, and Assai to emerge from the rising elevator.

Lord John Roxton and his temperamental inamorata, Marguerite Krux, were some three miles from the Treehouse, paralleling the river bank, when they heard the sound of tree branches snapping and saw the foliage being violently agitated. Roxton heard a dull roaring that was familiar from his years in Africa, and moved Marguerite off the trail.

"Listen," he instructed. "hear that? That sounds like elephants!"

"Oh, John!", she retorted. "That isn't funny. What IS that, though? Something big is coming this way, and it or they are ruining those trees! Not even large carnosaurs destroy trees like that, or the big sauropods like Apatosaurus. They're more likely to just browse on the leaves and ferns."

"I tell you, that is elephants," he insisted. "Listen! I hear their stomachs rumbling, a sure sign. We'd better hide and see what we can without being sighted by them." He opened the bolt of his .318 Westley Richards rifle and stripped the top three cartridges from the magazine and replaced the soft-nosed bullets with full metal -jacketed ones, what British big game hunters of his generation called, "solids". If they were attacked by elephants, he wanted the penetration of solid bullets, especially with this relatively light rifle, meant mainly for antelope, leopard and similar animals.

They had just begun moving toward better cover when a huge tusker stepped out of the undergrowth right in front of them. Marguerite was astonished at how quietly such a large animal could move and took in her breath quickly.

The elephant's ears, as large as some sails, quested for the faint sound, and the great head swung toward them. The bull had relatively limited eyesight, but superb hearing and sense of smell. The trunk moved briefly, sampling the almost non-existent air currents.

Smelling humans, the bull raised his trunk, looked directly at Roxton and Marguerite, and screamed in fury. The huge ears fanned out and back, the trunk curled up, and the mighty beast made directly for the couple, clearly bent on murder.

Roxton raised his .318, feeling the rubber recoil pad drop into place naturally in the hollow of his shoulder, partly from the rifle having been custom stocked for his body and partly from long practice. He recalled the need to visualize the brain hanging directly in the center of the animal's skull, with the correct sighting being on an imaginary line drawn just above and between the eyes. Miss the small passage to the brain, and the vast skull would soak up the bullet with no effect, and the bull would throw them into the trees, then probably tusk them before trampling them into the ground so thoroughly that they would resemble nothing human when found.

The gold front sight hovered over the gray expanse of the elephant's skull before settliing on the imaginary target, and John squeezed the trigger. The rifle spoke, and the bull stopped dead in his tracks, crumpling immediately. Roxton stepped around to the side of the fallen animal, checking that the uppermost rear leg trembled slightly, the sign of a successful brain shot. Too often, an elephant was merely stunned by a close miss, only to rise moments later and dismember the man who thought he had killed the pachyderm. Roxton had learned to be sure of his shooting on dangerous game.

Seeing that his shot was properly placed, he drew Marguerite toward the river. "Let's get out of sight, fast!", he urged. The herd was all around them now, and screams of anger and confusion filled the air, threatening their hearing. It was a cacophony of horror, and they realized that the herd was hunting them, sniffing the breeze, fanning their ears for any noise that would betray the couple's whereabouts.

The elevator door opened, and Veronica, Assai, and Ned Malone rushed out, all trying to speak at once.

"Wait, wait", exclaimed Challenger. "One speak at a time. Ned, what's the problem? Why did your say that Marguerite and John may be in danger? What's all this about elephants? What elephants?"

"George, listen!" gushed Malone. "We saw the tree tops moving over where Roxton and Marguerite went this afternoon. Assai came to tell us that elephants, big ones, sometimes migrate through here and destroy crops and huts. They kill people who get in their way. She saw footprints and ruined trees and a Zanga yam and manioc garden that were ravaged. They seem headed right for where Roxton said they were going: toward that big pool further down the river. Assai says that the herd likes to bathe there when they come through." 

"Elephants? Loxodonta africana?",Challenger lifted a skeptical eyebrow? "Or, Indian elephants? Either can be very dangerous...Assai, are you sure?"

The Indian girl nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Professor. I don't know the kind of them, but that is English word: 'elephons'. Big ones. Leader of this herd is very bad bull. He has awful temper, and has killed many men who try to stop them . Before, you and friends are away when they come here. Veronica knows about them." She looked beseechingly at their hostess.

"Yes, Challenger," echoed Veronica. "I can't tell you about everything that lives here. But these elephants are real. I think they're the African sort, from pictures I've seen. We need to get down to that pool and try to find Roxton and Marguerite before they stumble into that herd. And when we get back, Assai has some serious news about her father and a man-eating jaguar and that shaman you don't like, the one who replaced the one who helped Ned when he was trapped in the spirit world. If you'll arm yourselves, Assai and I will go down to the canoes and get them ready to launch. It's the fastest way downriver. If we don't see our friends, we can call out to them or land and try to find their trail."

Finn looked at Challenger and said, "George, I want a rifle. You said that I shoot well now. My crossbow won't be much good against elephants. I know what they are: I've seen them in videos."

Challenger hesitated only seconds before nodding abruptly, then walked to the rifle rack across the room and passed Finn a .275 Rigby and a bandolier of ammunition with mixed soft-nose and "solid" loads. He took down his own Holland & Holland .450 and passed another .450 to Ned Malone, commenting drily that he shouldn't have left the Treehouse without a rifle.

Veronica rushed around filling canteens while Challenger and Malone put together a pack with first aid supplies. Finn ran upstairs, stripped quickly, and donned a black top and hot pants much like those in which she had come to this place, if better tailored. She pulled on tall boots and was ready.

"I'll take that picnic lunch, Ned," said Veronica. We can eat in the canoe and save some in case Roxton and Marguerite are especially hungry."

Challenger lowered the heat in the oven to allow the roast to finish cooking without becoming a fire hazard and they went quickly down to the small boathouse by the river landing. 

Veronica, Ned, and Assai quickly loaded one canoe and got into it and Challenger pushed them off the muddy shore into the clear green water. He and Finn shoved their own canoe down to the water, loaded their gear and used their paddles to push clear of the bank. Turning, they moved off after the first canoe.

"That pool is about four miles downriver, " said Challenger as the current caught them and moved the two dugouts rapidly along.

There was a rustle from under the forward seat of the boat and Finn strained her eyes to see into the shadows there as the sun dropped lower on the horizon. "George, there's something moving under your seat!" she exclaimed. She drew the Webley .38 that had once belonged to the missing Professor Summerlee and which she had taken to wearing lately. It was more effective than her own metal crossbow, if louder.

"Dammit, wait, Finn!", urged Challenger. "If you fire, the bullet may pierce the hull and we'll sink. " He passed her a machete and got one, himself.

Leaning back over his seat, he probed with his paddle as Finn stood ready with her long brush knife, the Webley now holstered. A wriggling serpent shot out of the leaves and grass that had accumulated under the seat, and coiled rapidly at her feet. There was enough daylight left to discern the shape and coloration of a dangerous pit viper known to science as Bothrops atrox and to the natives in Spanish and Portugeuse South America as a "barba amarilla", a "yellow beard," named for the yellowish throat. It was often mistakenly called fer-de-lance, which was a closely related species found only on Martinique. The barba amarilla was a leading cause of snakebite death in Latin America, and they had no anti-venin for its venom. If it bit someone, the outcome would likely be grave.

"Hold still, Nicole," Challenger said tightly. "I'm going to try to pin that snake down with my paddle. As soon as I do, take its head off with your machete. Don't get too close and be careful. I may not be able to pin it for long. And, for God's sake, don't hit me or yourself."

Finn nodded and lifted her blade. She was pale and felt slightly nauseous, but she was determined to do what she had to.

Challenger pressed down sharply with the paddle's edge and nodded quickly to Finn. "Now, Nicole," he commanded. "Chop hard; they're very muscular."

She brought the blade down with a hard snap of her wrist and felt the tough muscles contract. The snake writhed violently, almost free of Challenger's paddle. She struck twice more, with all the force in her arm, and the head came off of the now free body, which was writhing out of control. She reversed the machete in her hand, using the sharp point to spike the head and flip it overboard. Challenger hefted the reptile's body on the oar and cast it after the head.

The splashing of the contracting serpent didn't last long. There was a quick flurry in the water and the snake disappeared below the surface. Turtle, thought Challenger, a big one.

He and Finn checked the rest of their canoe, calling out to the others to do the same, but no more dangers appeared, save for a spider that Veronica smashed with her sandal. The two canoes moved smoothly downriver, the sun now easing toward the horizon, a crimson and amber sunset already forming.

The current was slow but steady, and the explorers had no need for feverish paddling to make progress. They knew they'd need their strength to paddle heavily to offset the now-beneficial current when it became a foe on the return trip.

Finn pointed to crocodilians sunning on the right bank of the river, some 50 yards away. "What are those, George?" she asked,"Crocs or caimans?"

Challenger looked closely and replied, "Black caimans. Look at the smaller size and the shorter, more rounded snouts. They aren't as aggressive as American crocodiles for the most part, but more so than alligators, which don't live this far south. Don't get too near them, even if they'll let you. And don't swim if you see any. They have been known to kill people."

"Listen!" called Malone. "Was that a rifle shot?"

"Yes," Challenger agreed, "and it sounded just a little heavier than an infantry rifle. Probably Roxton's .318. Marguerite's .303 barks just a little differently. It came from about a mile ahead, on the left side of the river. Let's paddle harder, everyone. They may need us, already!".

Some 15 minutes later, Veronica called that she saw motion in the jungle on the left. She had no sooner spoken than an enraged elephant responded, trumpeting out a challenge and conveying hatred.

Veronica, astonished, looked across the three yards of water between her and the other canoe. Challenger nodded grimly, then pointed to a place on shore and indicated that they should steer for the bank, which was low enough for them to land the canoes.

"Run Marguerite! Run!" yelled Roxton.

As they ran, the elephant tried ramming the trees, hoping that the trees would fall over and hit them. But they didn't.

As Roxton turned around he noticed something strange about the elephant. There seemed to be a bright light glowing around it. "That can't be." said Roxton. He turned around and started running faster than ever. Seeing that didn't make him any happier than he already was.

As they ran around the corner of the trail, they saw a cave up ahead to the right. "Go in there! The elephants won't be able to come in!" yelled Roxton. "Hurry!"

As they went in, the first elephant disappered with a blazing golden light. The rest of the elephants stopped knocking into each other. They didn't like their prey getting away from them.

Panting, Marguerite looked over at Roxton. She went over to him and hugged him tightly. "What was that?" asked Marguerite still hugging him. "It didn't look natural."

"I don't know. When we were running I looked back and I saw a golden light encircling the dn creature. I don't know what it is. I don't like it."

As they looked at each other, they realized that the elephants had gone. All but three. Three grey, big, female elephants.

"Well, that's that", said Roxton. "They can't get in here. Just stay back from the entrance; we don't want to be grabbed by a trunk. They'll stay out there for a while and grumble, but will eventually leave. I don't think they'll try to starve us out, and they sure as Hell don't have any siege guns." He laughed, partly in relief at having escaped the danger.

"But what was that flash?", demanded Marguerite. "That was unworldly! And how will we know if those three elephants are really gone, or just hiding somewhere near the cave?"

"They won't wait forever, and we'll go out cautiously. They're bound to make a few little noises that we may hear if they don't see us. Our friends will come looking for us soon, though, and I don't want them stumbling into three angry cow elephants. They kill more people, really, than the bulls do. I hate to shoot one. In Africa, that will use up your license, and they don't carry enough ivory to be worth shooting. But they'll sure as sunrise kill you if they take a mind to."

He lifted his canteen and swallowed.It was still half full, and night was coming. He could stick it out for some time before they were forced to go out to find water. That was the real threat. In a tropical climate, they needed to stay hydrated. In the meantime... he and Marguerite were alone, and she needed to have her concerns about the elephants diverted.

John set his rifle against the cave wall, in a nook that would hold it safely upright. He walked over to Marguerite and took off her hat as she set her own rifle against a boulder.

She looked up at him, and said, "John, I only have enough water for a few more hours. Do you think there may be a stream or pool here in this cave?"

Maybe," he conceded, "But cave water may not be pure, and alkalinity could hurt us. Besides, we don't have anything to boil water in, to purify it. I don't think the elephants will stay more than an hour or two. Anyway, there's something I need to tell you, Marguerite, and it's important."

"What?", she asked, concerned anew. "Can this day get any better? Is something else wrong besides those bloody elephants wanting to kill us!"

Roxton grinned. "I didn't say that anything was wrong," he drawled. "I just think it's important that you know that when you've just been scared out of your wits that you have a very sexy glow about you."

He reached out to pull her into his arms, and after a slight initial hesitation, she succumbed, pressing herself to him, her own arms encircling his muscular body. She looked up into his wonderful eyes, and her own green orbs reflected the love that she felt for this remarkable man, who tolerated so much from her and loved her in spite of her deceits and intrigues and often caustic tongue. She had mellowed in the past year or two, and begun to trust, for the first time in her life, but Roxton had endured much before she had become more pleasurable to know. A slight barb of guilt flickered through her, and she laid her head on his chest.

"Oh, John!", she murmured. "I'm so grateful you know where to shoot an elephant, and always seem to know how to save me when I get us in a mess."

He was surprised. "I don't blame you for this, Marguerite," he whispered. "How the Hell were you supposed to know that we'd run into elephants, of all things? We were just looking for emeralds, because Challenger thought the topography on the Laytons' map suggested they might be here."

"I know," she admitted "but I think that big one you shot came after us because he heard me take in my breath. That was right when he looked at us, then charged. Their hearing must be incredible."

"It is," Roxton conceded, "but he may have smelled us, too. Don't blame yourself. For once," he laughed. He leaned down and kissed a tear off her cheek, then as she turned her face up, brought his lips onto hers. She stiffened briefly, then returned the kiss with a growing intensity.

Roxton slid his hands along her back and carressed her gently, his hands moving in a circular pattern, lightly easing her tense muscles. She uttered a small cry of relief and surrender, and he moved behind her, working his fingers along her stiff shoulders. "It's all right, darling," he assured. You're just a bit tense."

Marguerite leaned against the firm chest, fitting her back to his front, and looked up and reached for his lips with hers.

Roxton moved his hands from her shoulders around her waist, moved her holster forward a little on her belt to keep it from pressing against him, and drew his fingertips up her body from her waist to her breasts. The nipples were already engorging as her excitement grew, and after his fingers had described small circles on them a few times, he took the nipples through the lavender fabric of her blouse between his thumbs and forefingers and drew lightly on them, a gentle pull that distended them even more; he could feel them harden and knew that a rosy glow was washing over her features. She made a small, crying noise and pressed her hips against his manhood, the sensation only somewhat muted by the material of her khaki skirt and the twill of his trousers. His interest rose, and she rubbed her hips against it, chuckling softly as she measured his response to her movements. 

Marguerite unbuckled her gunbelt and leaned forward to ease it onto the stone floor of the cave. Roxton's fingers unfastened the side buttons of her skirt, and he held her arm in support as she stepped out of it and laid it on the boulder beside her rifle.

Roxton laughed softly. "Marguerite, if you knew how arousing you look, standing there in that blouse and boots, it would go to your head. You are far more erotic than any of those postcards with women on them that the French were always selling to our troops during the war. And far more classy. You shame the best efforts of artists through the ages to capture the appeal of the nubile human female. From ancient Greece to our time, no artist has been able to project the appeal that you have here, at this moment, dressed so incongrously. Put on your hat for a moment. I want to see how that looks. Tip it a little forward, at a cocky angle."

She blushed, but obediently put on the hat, then stood with her weight on one leg, the other knee bent, hands on her waist, thrusting her bosom slightly forward. She winked mischievously, and Roxton roared with laughter and delight. He took the hat and tossed it aside and began unbuttoning her blouse, offering a kiss with the undoing of each button.

By the time he had unfastened the third, she realized his pace of a kiss per button and ran her tongue along his lips on the next kiss, trying to suppress a laugh. Roxton, ever romantic, but playful. He was really the best lover she had had, and Marguerite was no stranger to the lust of men. Usually, she had employed sex as a tool to achieve a goal, but with John, the goal was the renewal of themselves, expressed in the motion of their bodies, but freeing their souls as it blended them. Roxton was the only man she had known to whom she made full love instead of merely having sex for a purpose, and the feeling of such freedom was heady, the finest stimulant to her passion. His hands made her wonder why any woman might ever need an aprodisiac.

He drew her blouse off and laid it atop her skirt and lifted off the ivory camisole, one of her few remaining French silk and lace items of luxury lingerie, so out of place in this primitive jungle, yet so appropriate in its contrast to the world in which they now dwelt.

Marguerite stood in boots and panties, lace-trimmed ones sewn by herself, after Challenger had devised a synthetic silk-like fabric and created what would certainly pass for elastic. She and Finn had conspired to design several styles, Marguerite taking to Finn's 21st Century brief fashions in nether garments to their mutual delight. Veronica, normally the least likely to covet the feel and fashion of seductive lingerie, had even been making such things for herself and the other girls after trying on a few pair and finding that wearing them awakened a latent sensuality in her. For some reason, she found that wearing bikini panties beneath her loincloth aroused her when she was near Ned, although why this should be puzzled her. Nevertheless, aware of the sensation, she had sewn several pair, and Finn had given her something called a "thong" that she liked seeing herself in in the mirror, although she was less happy with the fit in back than than with more conventional styles. Still, she knew that Finn was sincere in telling her as she modelled the garment that she looked as if it had been conceived with her in mind. She had told Finn in turn that her own slimmer hips and waist were even more complemented by thongs. Marguerite probably looked better in a thong than either of the others, but usually preferred regular bikini cuts, and today, she had on a pair that fit just below her navel, with slightly flared legs that had a lace-trimmed deep notch on each side to expose flesh to within an inch or so of the waistband. There was also handsewn lace trim on the front. Had the girls been able to offer such designs and quality in the finest shops of Paris or London, they would have no doubt soon become both famed and notorious as designers in this day of lingerie just beginning to achieve a glamorous as well as functional role in fashion.

Roxton playfully put Marguerite's hat back on her head, and had her hold her hands behind her, look down, and bend one leg again. He marvelled at the effect and told her so.

"Marguerite, such clothing shouldn't be allowed women. It drugs the male mind, making us putty in female hands. Especially with the hat and boots and the way that you're standing! If I wasn't strong of heart and morally resolute, I might be tempted to propose or something equally rash. My senses are clouded!"

She glanced at the front of his pants. "Your senses seem fully alive to me, " she commented, no longer able to refrain from laughing. She stepped forward, took off his crocodile hide vest and began pulling his shirt from his trousers. He ran his hands lightly along her waist, up her sides, lingering briefly on the hardened nipples and trailed his fingernails down the soft silk covering her hips. She unbuttoned his shirt, now mewing softly, slipping her tongue between his lips as they resumed kissing. Neither noticed the faint glow from a small torch coming their way, and the smell of the burning wood was wafted away by the air currents moving from the entrance of the cave toward its depths.

They were startled half to death by the sound of Veronica's voice exclaiming, "Oh, dear! Have I interrupted something important?" And she dissolved into peals of laughter. Behind her, Finn stopped dead in her tracks, took in the scene lit by the rays of the fading sun coming through the cave mouth and the now brighter glare of Veronica's and her own torches reflecting off the pale limestone walls of the cavern. Finn grinned, and turned to see Challenger's reaction.

Challenger cleared his throat loudly and blushed deeply. "Ahem," he began, "John, Marguerite. Uh, we were , ah, deeply concerned about you. We heard elephants trumpeting in rage, and found your tracks and that dead bull that you must have shot, and Veronica realized that you must have taken shelter in this cave. She knew about a back entrance, and we came looking for you. But I see that you've been managing nicely. If you don't mind, I think I'll ask these two tittering ladies to step back down the hall with me while you dress. We need to get back to the Treehouse. Assai needs our help in an important cause, and dinner is all but ready. We brought the canoes, by the way."

Ned Malone had just stepped up behind Veronica and looked over her shoulder at Marguerite and Roxton scrambling for their clothes.

"What happened?" he asked. "Did you get army ants on yourselves?"

"Yes, yes, Malone, that's bloody well it!", snapped Marguerite, handing John his shirt. "We had to strip to get the ants off of each other. We'll be dressed in a moment. Now, if you could just give us a brief interval of privacy," she glared.

"Oh, sure," Malone said, clearly flustered. He looked at the grinning Finn and Veronica watching each other, and added, "What? This isn't funny. Those ants have a nasty bite." And the others stepped back around the corner as the couple hastened to don their clothes. The other girls could no longer contain their mirth. Finn looked at her virtual sister, and Veronica was the first to laugh. They squealed and hugged one another as Malone and Challenger told them to be more ladylike and to quit humilating their friends. But Challenger had to work to keep from joining in the laughter. Finn saw this from the corner of her eye, and she laughed even harder, pulling George to her and putting her other arm around the guffawing Veronica

Twenty minutes later, all had boarded the canoes and were making their way upstream against the slow current along the edges of the river. Roxton and Marguerite sat one behind the other in the lead canoe, and as Roxton paddled, Marguerite reached out to take his hand, and he looked back at her, noting that she was blushing again. She winked at him, and squeezed his hand.

The shadows deepened, and they paddled harder, eager to reach the Treehouse and dinner.

Meanwhile, the elephant bull with the eerie glow was making its way back to a discreet, slightly camouflaged cave entrance. Two men came out of the entrance. One was a Zanga male who had been banned from the tribe and the other was wearing a stained laboratory coat with chemical burn holes over his tattered jungle uniform. The man with the lab coat turned a knob on an instrument and the elephant kneeled. The other man went to the elephant, lifted the right large ear, and flipped open a safety catch door. He turned the red knob labeled "Gefahr" ("Danger" in German) to the disarm position and then flipped another bronzed knob to the "Safe" position. He then flipped the safety latches back over the knobs, closed the external safety catch door, and locked it. The man then mounted the elephant and rode him into the cave.

The man in the stained lab coat watched as the elephant went into the dark cave. He heard someone walking purposely to him.

"The test was successful I trust?" A certain Zanga Witch Doctor asked.

"Yes, the collar works over long ranges and against animal instinct. Just as I have promised. Shall I move on to the next level Sir?" The lab coated scientist asked, sweating profusely in the tropical heat. He was wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. His posture was like that of confident man. The beads of sweat on the forehead were not of fear of his employer as someone would had thought. He took his monocle and cleaned it, while squinting at the witch doctor.

"Yes, Yes! I want you to speed up the process but still maintain the fragile integrity of this venture, understand." The witch doctor said excitedly and sternly. Then he looked up at the sun and made a face of displeasure. "I have to go. There will be patients waiting for me and guilt-ridden people wanting me to get rid of pesky little demons. I will be back to check progress."

"Will do." The scientist softly replied as he watched the Zanga Witch Doctor disappeared into the dense jungle.  
He pocketed his monocle.

The scientist was walking back to his primary lab inside the cave. The cave was ideal for the research he was conducting. He made his way past several different caged animals. He walked past his first project. The radio neurokentic controlled piranhas. The piranhas were swimming around in an aquarium. His work was limited to certain species whose nervous system were easily overrided through his new and highly unethical instruments and implants.

He stumbled upon the mysterious plateau by incident and accident. While a graduate student back in Germany, he was working on his doctoral thesis that was highly controversial. Some would say highly immoral and inhumane. The nature of his experiments was what lead to his flight from his homeland. His experiments were from an epiphany he had while serving in Northern Italy and later in the trenches of the Great War. Why have weaponry that needs raw materials and factories to build them. When you could have organic weapons that are grown? Maybe it was the trauma of the war or something else that altered Professor Gloop's perspective on the world. He was flying to Peru when his biplane encountered severe turbulence and he had to bail. Upon landing he had a broken leg and a couple of cracked ribs. This is when he first met the Zanga Witch Doctor. The Witch Doctor nursed him back to health. However, he made the errant scientist sign a pact. Now, Professor Gloop is fulfilling that pact.

He walked into his primary lab looked around and was pleased. He could have never gotten this far in his research back in Europe. He sat down at his desk, lit the candle for added light, and made last minute notes before conducting the final stages of his beloved research. His beloved research was also the Witch Doctor's tool to overthrow the Zanga village.

There was a few slight details he could not account for. There always was something that could go wrong. The first and most important was the English big game hunter, Roxton. The Zanga warriors were superstitious. With the help of the Witch Doctor, his master, telling the warriors the jaguar was a spirit and invincible. The warrior would either run away or not even try to throw a spear at the cat. Roxton could not be easily mislead though. The second problem was Professor Challenger, if he was the genius they said he was. The whole taking over the Zanga village and then the plateau using genetically enhanced, radio control predators ploy might be stopped by him putting two and two together. He wished that Professor Challenger was not on the plateau right now. The third and last issue was the discovery of his lab, the cave. The cave was located in a cliff. The cliff was part of a ravine carved out by one of the numerous river system found on the plateau. The Witch Doctor told everybody that the cave and the surrounding area was taboo. However, Professor Gloop was worried of some Zanga boys daring one another and discovering the organic weapons laboratory in the cave. He knew the Witch Doctor had recruited around 15 Zanga men who had committed crimes and were banned from the village to guard the secrecy of the cave.. However, they were not the disciplined warriors the Zanga village had guarding their perameter. 

Professor Gloop rose from his chair and went to a lab table. He reached in his pocket and withdrew some keys. Sorting through the keys he found the one to open a silver metal box. Inside the soft brown leather padding were three highly polished bronzed alloy collars. Works of art compared to the collar the bull elephant wore. The collar housed the circuity, antenna, probe to connect the collar with the surgically implanted neurokentic module, control panel, and a sun powered lumination strobe. He checked to make sure everything was operational and in perfect condition. He smiled as he found everything in order. Next he walked out of his lab onto the balcony and surveyed his surroundings. Some of his workers were mucking the cages and stalls of the various animals. He walked down the stairs to the predator section of the cave. He went to a cutout section in the wall where a huge pit was dug. Looking through the iron bars down onto a dark animal that wore a bronzed collar. He called to one of his lab assistants.

"Yes, Professor?", a bulky, stooped, and quite dirty man asked.

"Prepare Alpha Jag 1 for the lab. Tonight, we upgrade the collar and prepare the cat for complete activation." Professor Gloop ordered. This particular cat was his favorite of the pack he had. After tonight with the final lab work complete this cat could take on a raptor and win. He mused maybe if this was successful he might try a experiment with a raptor. 

She recalled the phrase that Roxton had used: "Marguerite, such clothing shouldn't be allowed women. It drugs the male mind, making us putty in female hands." She grinned at that. She remembered the glimmer in his eyes, how they darkened with lust and passion and how his body had responded to the sight of her in brief lingerie. How much more might the sight of her in the thong appeal to him?

She put on her boots and hat again, leaving the shirt unbuttoned. She spread it to reveal her breasts. The view in the mirror shocked her. Of course, she knew that she was pretty, but this was indeed an erotic sight.

Marguerite's body responded by blushing all over, and the thong grew slightly moist with excitement at the thought that she looked like a cowgirl who could "ride" Roxton all night!

Speaking of the devil...Roxton chose that moment to walk past her door and looked in. He thought for a moment that he was hallucinating. He blinked a few times, and yes, the "hallucination" was real! Suddenly, his pants grew very tight and he sneaked into the room and whispered into her ear from behind her, "Hey, Cowgirl. Are you interested in riding off into the sunset...with me?"

Marguerite almost shrieked. Instead, her nipples rose and stood to attention, just like Roxton's manhood.

"My shirt looks really good on you," he continued. "I told you before that it should be forbidden to look so desirable."

Marguerite blushed and wanted to turn around, but Roxton stopped her. "No," he said. "Watch in the mirror." And she did.

She watched as Roxton touched her nipples and his other hand travelled down her stomach, past her navel and deliciously rounded womb, all the way to the front of the thong. Two pairs of eyes filled with lust looked into one another. This was an erotic sight, and they were each in awe of what they saw. Marguerite threw her head back against Roxton's broad chest and with one of her hands reached back and began carressing him through his pants, while he, ever the true hunter, explored her own body, starting with the damp triangle at the apex of the thong.

At the foot of the stairs, Veronica noticed Ned about to ascend to the next floor, carrying a container of something that smelled vile. He saw her and asked, "Have you seen Roxton and Marguerite? This cream keeps the bites of army ants from itching."

Veronica tried her best not to laugh: Malone looked so serious. She cleared her throat and said, "Ned, I think they got the ants off just in time. They've had an exciting and, ah, unsatisfying, day. Give it to them tomorrow if they complain about an itch."

Above, Marguerite slipped from Roxton's embrace for a moment, held up a finger to let him know that she'd be back momentarily, and walked to the bannister running along the floor.

"Hello?" she called down to the main floor. "Will you excuse John and me for awhile? We need to talk about something very urgently. We'll be down before too long. Please don't hold off eating on account of us". 

In the dining area, Finn paused as she set plates around the table as Challenger brought in the succulent roast. She gave George a grin and said, "I hope they find whatever they're hungry for up there. I don't think it's really food."

"Nevertheless, they need to eat before long. We need to set out for Assai's village soon. Ah! Veronica, Asssai, Ned. Please sit. I opened a bottle of Chateau Ducru- Beaucaillou, an excellent claret, and it can finish "breathing" in our glasses."

He and Finn set out the remaining dishes, with carrots, potatoes, and broccoli, and Challenger poured the Bordeaux wine into some of Marguerite's Baccarat crystal glasses. Her vanity had at least provided all the elegance of a table that might be set in the shadow of Buckingham Palace, although they ate instead in a wooden structure suspended above a primitive jungle environment.

All took their places, and Challenger asked Assai to tell the full story of her emergency. He held his glass so that light from the chandelier above passed through the wine and cast garnet crystalline shadows onto the white tablecloth as Assai told a tale of horror and danger that contrasted with the civilized dinner in this tranquil place that had become his home.

"Where do I start?" asked Assai. "There is so much to tell and I feel so little time." She looked down and picked at her food. "I think we should eat dinner first."

"We are in no rush Assai. Trust me." Smiled Challenger. "We are all to eager to hear what it is you have to say, believe me. If you ask me, it is Roxton and Marguerite who should be rushing. But we won't worry about them. We can fill them in later. Now tell us please what is troubling you."

"It all happened so fast. It's as if it was there all along, but decided to show itself NOW. Or something. I don't know."

"Well tell us." Replied Veronica all to eagerly.

"Veronica, calm down. Assai will take her time." Said Challenger. "Go ahead. But before you do, let me get Roxton and Marguerite. I can't stand not having them down here with us."

Challenger goes round the corner to call the two love birds. "Marguerite! Roxton! Please come down here. I don't know what it is that's taking so long! Assai is trying to get her story told." Challenger decided to go up the stairs instead. They probably can't hear me, he thought. "What to do with those two. Always sneaking off when they can. They're like two small children."

Finn and Veronica looked at each other in astonishment, then rose as one to go to Challenger and pull him back toward the table. They couldn't believe that anyone other than Ned Malone would be so imperceptive as to not KNOW what Marguerite and John were doing! Especially after Finn had made that remark about whatever they were hungry for, it wasn't food...

Finn leaned over and whispered urgently in George's ear. He looked blank, then surprised, and Veronica nodded her head, vigorously.

"Well," he muttered, "er, harrumph! I suppose that we could, ah, give them the gist of the story when they finally deign to join us. I wonder how long they plan to have this, er, 'urgent discussion' that Marguerite mentioned." He glanced nervously at Assai, who also probably hadn't guessed what Roxton and his lady were doing in the privacy of her room.

Finn gave him a slow smile and licked her lips lasciviously. "Let's see, George," she teased. "How long did we 'discuss' matters last Tuesday night? Oh, wait! It mostly wasn't talking that I was using my mouth for. You seemed to enjoy it, though. We were up for hours. Maybe we should just leave John and M. a note, summarizing what Assai has to say." She fluttered her eyelashes flirtatiously and winked.

Veronica rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Get back to the table, you two," she ordered. "We interrupted them earlier today and they need to get this out of their systems for awhile. They won't take all night. They know we have to go before too long. They'll hurry, I'm sure. Relatively speaking, anyway." And she led the way back to the table.

Ned and Assai looked at them expectantly. "Don't ask," said Finn and Veronica in unison. Challenger looked frustrated, then sighed and resumed his chair.

"Wait a minute," interjected Ned Malone. "Are you people trying to tell us that they didn't really have ants on them today?"

"You figured it out, Ned. I'm proud of you," Veronica said, her words rather clipped. "Assai, just tell us what's wrong, and we'll deal with it. If nothing else, we'll brief John and Marguerite on the way to your village."

"Oh," said Assai. "I think I just realized why they are upstairs. Well, they are much in love, and I am intruding on all of you with this. I can tell them in the canoe if we go by the river, or walk between them and give them a summary of my situation."

Challenger poured more wine for Finn and himself, and was waved off by Veronica and Malone, whose glasses were still well charged. Veronica was drinking the Prum Wehlener with chicken from the picnic basket, anyway. Assai, being Indian, avoided alcohol for the usual biological reasons inherent in her race. What delights one ethnic group in moderation can ravage another, with different metabolic patterns.

"Let's see," she continued. "I was saying that five of our people have been killed by a jaguar this month. That is many more than usual. And they were eaten, which happens only occasionally. Xu'ac, the shaman whom my father expelled last year for misconduct and plotting against him, is telling those who will listen that this jaguar isn't a normal cat. They can be dangerous, but not just one jaguar, not this often in one place. And this one doesn't have the usual spots on his yellow hide. Professor, what do you call those spots"?

"Rosettes," Challenger replied. "So, you want us to kill this man--eater? Don't the Zanga normally just hunt one down, with warriors 'beating' the jungle and driving the man-eater toward a line of men with spears, bows, and nets, or make a trap?"

"Usually, yes, when the ground permits," Assai admitted. "If the jungle is too broken or thick, maybe some of our best hunters can track it. Their dogs help a lot. Or, they just lie in wait and run to help the next hut that's being broken into at night, or send men to guard the women in the fields or as they do the wash. Sooner or later, someone kills the animal."

"And now?" Ned asked.

"Ned, this is not a normal jaguar, what the Brazilians off the Plateau call a 'tigre'. It is a 'tigre negro', a black jaguar. I've heard of them, and the old people among us recall a few, but they aren't common. Some say that they are not real jaguars, but spirits of dead enemy warriors returned to punish us for their defeat. No one can recall when we last killed one. The last slew four of our best wariors and seven dogs and went away. Maybe it returned to the spirit world." In spite of her association with these European friends, she shivered involuntarily as fear of the supernatural crept through her veins and accelerated her heart.

"Wait. Right now!." Finn interupted. "Jaguars can climb like a jet airplane. We do have the electric fence turned on, don't we?" She reached over to the chair on which she had put her gunbelt and buckled it on.

"I turned on the fence," Veronica said. "We should be okay unless it jumps over the top wires and comes down inside the barrier. Even raptors can't usually do that. Go on, Assai."

"Well, this jaguar isn't only black, and killing and eating people, those who have seen it say that it sometimes glows, like it has a halo of light around it. One man even swears that it turned golden and just disappeared as he was about to release an arrow at it."  
She trembled slightly and hugged herself. "It is very strange. And this warrior is known for being a sober man who tells the truth. He has great courage. He has won many blue macaw feathers and a jade necklace for his bravery. He is like those you tell of who have that bronze Maltese cross with the lion with the crown and the sword on it. The one with the dark red ribbon, like Roxton showed me. It had two words on it, too, I think, but I don't remember what. But Marguerite said that only very brave soldiers are given that medal. Roxton won it in some country called Belgium, she said.This thing has a name almost like Veronica's."

"The Victoria Cross," Challenger nodded. " Those words are, 'For Valour'. So this must be a very courageous warrior, indeed. Go on."

Assai looked down in despair. "The shaman, Xu'an, has told many that it is my father's fault that this black jaguar who glows has come. He says that it will stay until we have a new chief. He wants Itz'Cutl to replace my father as chief."

"That's absurd. Whatever this thing is, we can find it and put a stop to this," Challenger said resolutely. "Surely, there is some simple scientific explanation for what's happening. I'll soon get to the bottom of this."

He looked up as they heard Roxton and Marguerite coming downstairs. When they approached the table, he nodded curtly at the remaining food and said that there was still some wine left, and that the reisling was in the ice bucket if they'd prefer white wine. A fine German reisling spatlese had enough character that some might enjoy it with venison instead of the red wines normally served with game, beef, and lamb.

Marguerite put some chicken, carrots, and broccoli on her plate and went to the kitchen for the bottle of reisling. Roxton sat, held out his glass for Finn to pour the Ducru-bottled red wine into it, and began helping himself to venison and vegetables.

"Now that we're all here," Challenger said meaningfully, "Assai has just told us of a very strange black jaguar that glows and seemingly disappears. It has killed and eaten several people and has easily evaded their best hunters."

"They use dogs?" Roxton asked. He rose and pulled out Marguerite's chair for her, and she sat. They looked at one another and reddened slightly.

"You two seem to have gotten a little sunburn today," Veronica teased. At least, you look pink and hearty, as if you've been exercising."

"Not now, Veronica," admonished Challenger. "This is serious business."

"So was what we were 'discussing' ", retorted Marguerite, accepting bread from the platter that John offered. She looked into Veronica's eyes and smiled sweetly. "We 'talked" as fast as we could, given the no doubt urgent news we were missing."

"Back to this jaguar...," Roxton said.

"You mentioned it glowed? That's very odd. When Marguerite and I were running away from the elephants, I turned around saw one of them glowing." Replied Roxton. "I think I may have told you all about it."

"That's most peculiar. Both glowing. I'm sure there is a simple explanation for this." Said Challenger.

"You think there is a simple explanation for everything Challenger. Of course, that's just the scientist in you, isn't it?" Laughed Malone. "But there has to be SOME connection between the two. It couldn't be just a coincidence. Can it?" As he looked around, Assai stood up and started to pace the floor. All looked up at her as she did so.

"That is strange about the elephant. I don't believe I have heard any of it in our tales. All of our tales come from real events that have happened over the years. Of course, some are made up. But most are for the children."

As she walked back and forth, she couldn't stop thinking about the glowing Jaguar and elephant. As she walked over to the balcony, she swore she saw something glow a little off into the brush. But she couldn't see anything clearly because there was a bush obscuring the object behind it. She ran over to the table. 

"I think I just saw something behind a bush. It was glowing. I do not know what it was. But I think it must be the Jaguar."

All got up from where they were sitting and ran over to where Assai had been a few seconds before. "Where is it Assai? I can't see anything?" Said Roxton.

"I saw something. I swear I did."

Off in the distance as all of them looked out into the night, each thought they heard a deep laughter, coming from somewhere. But it was so quiet, they weren't sure if it even was a laugh. They each dismissed it, thinking their nerves were a little off.

"It could be anything. Who knows?" Said Veronica. "We should be heading out soon anyway. Is there anymore to your story that we should know about?"

Everyone walked back to the table and sat down, each fidgeting or thinking about something else. "That's it really. I can always explain more on the way back to the village. That is if you all are coming." said Assai.

The Explorers looked at each other wondering if the other was thinking what they were thinking. After all these years together, they were able to look at one another and know what they were thinking. Most of the time that is. Each took their time with the idea. Everyone at the table loved Assai very much. She's as much a sister to the rest of the group as she is with Veronica. After taking no more than a minute, each nodded their agreement.

"It couldn't be that hard. I mean, it's only a jaguar. It's a jaguar, but a glowing jaguar at that. And then there was that glowing elephant that Marguerite and Roxton encountered. No telling what else is out there that glows. There --"

"Ned, shut up. Your rambling, again." Said Veronica with a slight smile. She always found that to be a bit sexy with Ned. She loved being around him when he was shy. He never really knew how to act around people when he was shy or nervous for that matter. Only when they were together did he really seem to be himself. As much as he tried, he wanted to be the man in charge. The one with control. Like Roxton. But both knew that he would never be like that. He, of course, would have his moments to shine, but ultimately, he would be quiet Edward Malone. The one Veronica loved and admired. Epically on that day a few weeks ago.

"Veronica. Veronica are you ok?" Asked Malone. "You seemed to have a distant, but pleased, look on your face. Is everything all right?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, no, I'm fine really. I was just thinking about something. That's all. Are we ready to go?"

"We're getting there. We were just about to get up and pack." Said Roxton with a sly smile. It always tickled him seeing Veronica and Ned together. They were both so perfect for each other, and yet so completely opposite at the same time.

Everyone got up and started going their respective ways. Roxton and Marguerite back up to their rooms to get their things packed; Challenger and Finn to his lab. There was always something that he could find there that would help fight the... Whatever it is. Malone and Veronica to their rooms of course to get what they needed. Assai just sat there watching everyone leave. Hoping, that they would actually accept her offer of them helping her village. They always have accepted and never once refused. But she always had a pang in her stomach before they answered. It was very crucial that they say yes to this one request. If not all would be doomed.

As Veronica went to her room, Malone came running up to her. "Veronica wait. I'd like to talk with you. If that's ok." Veronica turned around and looked at the man she loved. There was that blush of his in his cheeks. Yet another thing that she loved about him. And yet another indication that what he was about to say, slightly embarrassed him. But then what didn't at times?

"What is it Ned? We have to hurry you know."

"I know. I was just wondering if you remembered that day we had together not to long ago? Do you remember? I was just wondering, because of that look that you had on your face. I was hoping that maybe I had something to do with it."

With a big smile on his face, he waited for her answer. And waited. And waited. "Well? Was it?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. What's it to you?" Asked Veronica. "You better go pack your things Malone. You wouldn't want to miss all the fun at Assai's village would you?" With that, she went in her room smiling broadly.

"Riiiggghhht. Right. Yeah. No. I wouldn't want to miss all the fun in Assai's village. Ok." With that, Edward T. Malone turned around and went off to his room and packed.

The surgical table was prepared, the black, muscular Panthera onza was sedated. Both Professor Gloop and his trusted lab assistant were wearing black rubber gloves and aprons. They were in the second laboratory. This laboratory was reinforced to contain animals who suddenly awoke from being sedated and might place the whole cave in danger. Light was provided by several torches and half a dozen candles. The effects of the lighting made the lab look Gothic, forbidding. Some of the helpers were afraid of even looking inside, some avoided this area all together. The was a Mauser M-98 hanging on the wall behind Professor Gloop in case of any mishap. He also wore on his belt his trusted 9mm Luger. His lab assistant wore his hunting knife and slung on his back was a sawed off Winchester 12 gauge pump action shotgun. He loved the shotgun. He even gave it a woman's name. Professor Gloop still could not make out the name, even to this day. Once, while operating on a young bull elephant. The elephant regained consciousness and nearly demolished the lab. Both the Professor and his assistant nearly died because both the rifle and shotgun were hanging on the wall, out of reach. So, now the lab assistant has his shotgun slung on his back while the Professor implanted his strange micro devices into the creatures.

"We're all set, Herr Gloop." The bulky lab assistant informed. His German becoming better each day. While the Professor was struggling in his learning the Zanga language. There was occasionally some light hearted communication breakdown between the two. So, must of the time they conversed in English. It was extraordinary that his lab assistant knew the English language.

"Alright, lock the door and make sure your safety is on. " Professor Gloop instructed. His lab assistant locked the door and made sure the hammer was down on his shotgun. He smiled and nodded.

"You know after this we could brew up some of your famous tea and invite a few girls over and celebrate?" The Professor remarked. He was in good spirits and felt like relaxing after the months of work he has done. He was also sure that the famous tea was some sort of narcotic. However, since he was deprived of his native beer he like to indulged from time to time with tea.

Having heared the suggestion his stooped and ever present dirty assistant's smile got bigger and nodded his head in agreement.

The Professor had his lab assistant modify the existing collar by placing a new long life battery in the collar. Although, its primary power source was the sun. Professor Gloop needed a secondary power soucre that was more reliable. Therefore, he designed his nobel prize winning battery. If only he could show the scientific community. An improved reciever for recieving transmission from the cave or a mobile unit. The transmitter and reciever were based on microwave frequency and not radio waves. Professor Gloop knew it would be highly improbable for some one to interdict his frequency using the lower end of the Electromagetic Spectrum. Although, he noticed he could not set his mug of coffee too close to the transmitter for the coffee would be to hot to drink. He found the phenomena fascinating and would have to wait until the Zanga village is his for further investigation. Five, four and a half inch long spikes for protection were added to the collar. The spikes in addition helped with directing the intense beam of light from the strobe. The collar was up to par as his other three collars that would go on the other Pathera onze.

Professor Gloop was cleaning the surrounding area around the top of the jaguar's neck. Where the collar sat on top of the neck with 5 molar concentrate isopropyl. When there was a loud startling bang on the lab door. Both men jumped and started to reach for their weapons. Before, they had their guns ready they relaized why the lab door was making such a noise. It was the Zanga Witch Doctor, Xu'ac. He was smiling and said, "Did I interrupt?" Both Professor Gloop and his lab assistant looked at each other. Since, the lab assistant's back was turned to Xu'ac he rolled his eyes. Professor Gloop catching his lab assistant expression tried his best to contain his laughter, but smiled.

"Yes, you managed to interrupt something. What do you want?" Professor Gloop answered. While he answered, he continued to clean the area around the connect/disconnect implant with isopropyl.

"I had just walked back from the Layton tree house--"

"I beg your pardon, You were at the Layton tree house! What were you doing? No, what were you thinking! No unnecessary contact with the Layton tree house dwellers. You want this venture to fall through? Why were you at the Layton tree house?" The Professor could not believe his supposed boss was any where near the tree house. He noticed that Xu'ac was not that happy with his outburst. "Sorry, Xu'ac, I am pressed for time with the sedation and..."

"Never mind, Your mind is full of other things. Assai has made contact with the Challenger expedition. They are getting ready to head for the main Zanga village. I am much pleased with plan." Xu'ac conveniently left out the tid-bit about being spotted by Assai and how the explorers thought she was seeing something. Then there was his laughter. He also noticed that Professor Gloop was not a subject of his anymore but an equal. He did not know what to think about the change. Professor Gloop noticed that Xu'ac was slightly incoherent and uncoordinated. Like someone who had temporary euphoria from some herbal native stimulate.

"Well, we will have to be more careful since the Challenger expedition has been brought in. I--"

Professor Gloop was interrupted by Xu'ac. "I want the tigre negro to hunt tonight! I want the explorers to encounter the powerful tigre while visiting the village. It is prefect. The moon is resting, the night will be black. The Zangas will be thinking they are safe with the explorers in their pathetic village. I want them to taste fear."

Professor Gloop thought the witch doctor should be a thespian with the performance he had just said. Xu'ac, Professor Gloop mused that he could have adution for a role in MacBeth. Then his mind turned towards the matter at hand. For the jaguar to hunt tonight he will be sore. However, the cat had not eaten since yesterday. Of course, this would put the tea and the village girls on hold for next time. He looked at his lab assistant and both nodded. They could met this new deadline.

"Your tigre negro will hunt late tonight or early next morning after he is over the effects of the sedation. Whom did you have in mind to hunt?"

Xu'ac had a sinister grin on his face. Xu'ac eyes were slightly dilated and wild. His whole demeanor was just pure evil.

Not long after they had finished packing, the group of explorers was on it's way to the Zanga village, home of Assai and the Zanga people. The group, lead by Assai, was quieter then usual, everyone seemed to be deep in thought. Marguerite and Roxton were still quietly reliving their memorable afternoon, exchanging well meaning looks with each other when the others weren't looking. Marguerite couldn't get the image of Roxton's muscular body, all gorgeous and sweaty, out of her mind. And every time Roxton looked at Marguerite, he could only think of how beautiful and sexy she had looked wearing nothing but her hat.

Veronica was still pondering on that special day she and Ned had had a few weeks ago, still smiling when she thought about his reaction after she had kissed him. Oh how much she loved his clumsiness every time he got nervous or shy about something. But still, she couldn't help but wonder if she and Ned were really meant to be together or only meant to be really good friends. And Malone, well he was still trying to figure out what Veronica was thinking about earlier. He was hoping that she had been thinking about him, but he couldn't be sure. Though he loved Veronica and she had told him that she had certain feelings for him, he could never really be sure what she was thinking, or feeling for that matter. One minute she seemed to reciprocate his affections, being concerned about him, taking care of him when he was hurt. The other minute she almost seemed cold, just like she did back at the treehouse when he had asked her what she had been thinking about before. "What's it to you" she had said.

Challenger being Challenger was trying to figure out some kind of scientific explanation for the phenomenon of the glowing jaguar and elephant. Even though they had encountered more then there fair share of unexplained phenomena, he always had to try and find some logical explanation for it. But even though he wouldn't give up just yet, he hadn't been able to come up with anything thus far.

Finn had tried to liven things up a bit by striking up a conversation with each and everyone of them, but without much success. Marguerite, being her usual snappy self, had said that she should go and bother someone else. The others had simply said that this wasn't the best time for trivial conversations, they had serious business to attend to. Eventually she gave up trying and found a new companion in Assai, who was actually happy that Finn took her mind off of things.

A short walk later the group emerged from the wood into the open field, in front of them the outer barriers of the Zanga village. The guards in the watchtowers announced their arrival and the gate was opened. On the other end they were awaited by chief Jacoba, Assai's father, the tribe's Witch Doctor and the Council of Elders.

Marguerite sighed "Why does Finn always have to bother everybody, especially me?" and walked on. Marguerite noticed the way Roxton looked at her with that dreamy look in his eyes. Marguerite could only think of one thing that could be the subject of his mind. Marguerite's mind travelled back to an event earlier that day FLASHBACK  
Meanwhile Marguerite returned to Roxton and they stood before the mirror. Roxton had his hand on marguerite's nipple and pinched it, she gasped while his other had sneaked to her buttocks. There Roxton found a surprise he caressed her bottom and found out that her buttocks were naked. "What the…?" and he pushed the shirt up and saw that she was wearing a piece of underwear that not covered her bottom." My, my…" he murmured and Marguerite replied" you like?" "Like is an understatement, my sexy cowgirl…I love it."  
"It is a new sort of underwear; they call it a 'thong' and I decided with the help of Finn to make one."  
"Marguerite leaned against his back while Roxton sneaked his hand into her thong while his other hand was caressing her nipples. He looked in the mirror and saw her squirming against his chest. Marguerite felt that she was close and said" John please…" he bit in her neck while moving up the rhythm of his fingers. He felt her muscles tighten and he kissed her too while she screamed "oh yes" into his mouth. He held her tight while Marguerite was lying in his arms resting against his chest.  
Marguerite, who just felt like she was launched into the sky looked up to Roxton and smiled "well you are so overdressed for this party" took his shirt off and gripped his gun belt "these guns make you a dangerous men, Lord Roxton", Marguerite teased, "However you have a more lethal weapon over here" she said while she cupped his manhood. Roxton let out a growl while Marguerite unzipped his pants. "Well, well Lord Roxton, going commando these days", she said, while his manhood sprang to attention. Roxton blushed and added a grin "well since we were interrupted in the cave, I left my underwear there and I was just on my way to put them on, when a beautiful sight before this mirror caught my attention." Marguerite glanced up and smiled "You don't hear me complaining" Roxton grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up close to him "this is what you do to me, only you" and pressed her against his hardness. Marguerite pushed Roxton to the bed and with his head cocked he looked at her with question signs in his eyes. "Well you owe me a ride and I want it now...oh and you can leave your hat on" Roxton lay on the bed while Marguerite removed the piece of clothing called a" thong".  
Roxton's grin disappeared when Marguerite sat on up top of him, "So cowboy, in for a ride?" All he could do was nod and both let out a groan at their union. Marguerite started slowly and locked eyes with Roxton, both looks had love, lust and passion in it. She sped up the rhythm while Roxton grabbed her breasts and teased her. Marguerite was overwhelmed by the passion she felt and threw her head backwards and moaned. Roxton felt as if he was going to explode, it would not take long if she continued with this. He sat up kissed her, and he was glad that he kissed her so passionately, because the "John, oh my god YESSSSSS...I love you", went through his whole body. Marguerite bit hem in the neck while he made love to her, till he exploded. He bit her neck as he growled "Marguerite, I love you"  
Wasted they lay on the bed, Marguerite still on top of Roxton, with both their hats on and her head on his chest.  
He chuckled "well that was a hell of a ride, we surely have to do it again Cowgirl", Marguerite smiled against his chest "Oh yes Lord Roxton, riding you is, besides gems, one of my favourite things" and laughed while he smacked her bottom.  
Once they came downstairs Ned walked towards them and looked at them in a funny way. Marguerite and Roxton started to feel uncomfortable. "Malone, do I have something one my face?" Roxton asked. "No, but you do on your neck, both of you. Well, those ants bit you two really hard" and pointed towards the bite marks on both Marguerite and Roxton neck. Marguerite flushed and her hand went straight to her mark. Roxton looked to the ground while the other members laughed when Malone gave them the crème for the ants. "It smells, but it helps"…. END OF FLASHBACK

The guards swung open the large wooden gate and admitted the group into the Zanga village.

Chief Jacoba motioned for them to come closer, and leaned in toward the new witch doctor, Xma-Klee, whose name meant , "Clever Ocelot" in English. They conferred, Jacoba looking intently at Veronica as she approached.

"Why is the chief staring at you, V?", asked Finn.

"He once tried to marry me in a deal that Marguerite set up without my knowledge," Veronica replied. "The only reason why I'm not part of his harem right now is probably that the old villain fears your guns and his daughter's rejection if he abducts me. I guess that I could eventually escape and go live with the Amazons, but I really don't want to leave the Treehouse."

"Wow," muttered Finn. "Is it like, safe for us to even be here, let alone help this bastard?"

"He's a fairly dangerous savage," mused Challenger, "but we trade with the village and have many friends here. If we help him stay in power, he will probably see more reason to accept us than otherwise. And a successor chief might be even worse. Quiet, they understand some English." And they approached the "throne".

Jacoba looked them over and addressed Challenger. "What do you want here, English? I see that you now have two girls with yellow hair. I will give you the meat of a whole tapir for that new one. Maybe even an emerald or two." He looked meaningfully at Marguerite as he said the bit about the emerald, and she flushed. Jacoba laughed, a great rumble from deep in his ample belly.

"Actually, Chief, we have enough meat and Marguerite can surely find emeralds some other way. The new female is my woman, and I wish to keep her. She is above any price. And we have come because Assai says that you have much trouble with a glowing jaguar that has become a man-eater. Perhaps we can help."

"Haugh!', snarled Jacoba. "You think I cannot protect my own people? Me and my shaman, who stands high in the esteem of the gods?"

"Daddy, please," interrupted Assai. "These are my friends and they have often helped us. Spirit Jaguar is dangerous. We must set aside our pride and ask the aid of the few who may be able to assist us in defeating this demon. Neither I or they seek to demean you or this powerful shaman."

"Quite so, Jacoba," agreed Challenger. He addressed Xma'Klee. "I am honored to meet you, great shaman. I know that you are named Clever Ocelot, surely a good name for so wise a man. I know a little of medicine, myself. I am called George Challenger. May I consult with you, that I may learn from you? Perhaps I may even be of some minor assistance in dealing with this strange glowing beast. I have an interest in the supernatural, and I ask your indulgence."

"I have heard of you, George Challenger," admitted Xma'Klee. "It is possible that I will agree to teach you some useful knowledge, that you may be a better shaman to your own kind. And on the off-chance that you may know something of use, let us retire to my hut and discuss this affair. Mighty Chief, will you join us?"

"Um," said Jacoba, his pride assuaged. To Assai, "Daughter, we men must speak of important matters. Show the girls your new loom. Sell them some cloth while you are at it." And he laughed again.

Assai led her female friends away and the men went diagonally across the village to the shaman's spacious hut, where he drew aside the blanket covering the doorway and motioned to Malone, Roxton, and Challenger to enter.

Two women in the hut knelt as the men entered. "My wives," announced Xma'Klee. Are they not lovely?"  
His pride was more than conceit, for both young women were in fact beautiful. They wore only brief loincloths, and their charms were evident.

"N'Sangra, Hermosa," Xma'Klee addresed his women. "Go and talk with the female visitors. In half an hour, all you girls come back here with dishes of coconut, melons, and berries, that my guests may be refreshed. In the meantime, we have solemn matters to discuss." And the girls rose and left, putting on bandeau tops to cover their breasts.

Malone was thankful the beautiful Zanga girls left. He was having a difficult time remaining focus on the problem of the jaguar and the village's witch doctor conversion. He tried his best not to stare and became transfixed while they were leaving. Roxton caught Malone staring and nudged him to bring him out of his daze.

After basically recapping what Assai had already said, the shaman mentioned that a strong warrior had been injured just that night.

"He will die, and it is a pity, " shrugged Xma'Klee. "He is a powerful man and he throws a spear well, but he had no chance against Spirit Jaguar."

"Where is he now?" queried Challenger. "How severe are his wounds? Perhaps we can save him. No insult to you, Xma'Klee, but I have different medicines that may prevail. Is there much infection yet? That is usually the case with claw and tooth wounds from big cats, due to the bits of rotten meat that are in their mouths and under their claws."

"Some infection," said Xma'Klee. "More later. One broken arm, which I have set. Two cracked ribs, which I have strapped. But the loss of blood is heavy, and more illness will show by morning. By then, he will pass soon."

"May I see him?" asked Challenger. "I want to know that I did my best to help."

Jacoba reflected, all eyes on him. Finally, he grunted, "Go. Do what you can. He is surely lost, otherwise, and he is a good warrior. This village will feel his loss, especially the next time the Xingu or the Jivaro come, seeking heads to shrink and women to steal."

Taken to the hut of the injured man, Challenger removed his crude bandages and examined the wounds by torchlight. "These are severe." he conceded. "Ned, go get Finn, fast! Tell her to bring my medical bag." To the others, he said, "My woman is a healer of sorts. I am going to debride the infected tissue that is already corrupted, then wash the wounds with red wine, which has not only alcohol, but antibiotic effects. A famous Roman physician named Galen claimed that he never lost a gladiator whose survivable wounds he had washed out with wine and poured wine on again before dressing the cuts."

"What is 'gladiator'?" asked Jacoba. Roxton told him, and the usually grumpy and egotistic chief looked contemplative.

"Why do you say you will 'debride' his wounded flesh?". This from Xma'Klee. "He has no bride, and I can't see what that has to do with being hurt."

To 'debride' means to cut out or excise the affected tissue," replied Challenger. "Then, if we can find a kinsman whose blood is the same kind as his, my woman and I will give him some of their blood in a special procedure called a 'transfusion'. We will need to check their blood first to be sure it is safe for him to have. I will tell you later about human blood and how it differs among people. Ah, here's Finn. Bring that in, Darling. We have our work cut out for us, but I think we can save this man."

Finn came in, saw the man under strong torchlight, and muttered, "Holy guacamole! Which shredder did this guy fall into!"  
In Assai's hut, the women were in a circle looking down at some blue cloth. Each were thinking what they could ask for, Assai hoping that perhaps each might buy something.

"Is there anything you all would like me to make? I would be more than happy to do so. Or I can have someone else make them. The men will take a while before they ask for their food," said Assai. She looked at each of them. She knew Veronica didn't need anything. She had made some things and bra's for her. Veronica had told her that she wanted to surprise Malone on that special day way back when.

"No. I don't need anything. I've already bought some things at the Zanga Mall," replied Marguerite rather flatly. All knew she really didn't want to be here, but was more than eager after todays particular excursions. "Perhaps Finn would want something. We all know how Challenger likes a good exploration. Isn't that right Finn?" Marguerite smiled broadly at Finn.

"Oh be quiet Marguerite. Who asked you," said Finn. She was a little hurt by the comment. Marguerite had blown her off on the earlier, and she didn't like that. She secretly looked up to Marguerite. Even if Marguerite didn't want to know that. Finn admired everything Marguerite was. Finn wanted to be like her. She had a strength not many people had. She also wished she could be as secretive as her. It would help when she and Challenger were playing certain games together.

"I don't need anything either. I have everything I want and more," replied Veronica. "Besides, I think we should sit and chat. We haven't done that in a while. I miss it."

The girls sat down in the sitting area off in the corner. Assai had one of the servants fetch some snacks and drinks. The corner was full of plush pillows and blankets. With colors of magenta, gold, and dark blue. Assai had made them when she was a few years younger. She was proud of them. These were the only ones of their kind on the plateau. And she made sure only a select few had them, if any.

"What do you want to talk about," asked Assai.

"How about these pillows? They remind of India," said Finn.

"India? What is that?"

"It is a beautiful, exotic land. There is nothing like it," replied Marguerite. "I was there with the British royal family once. We were in this beautiful house and the servants were wonderful. We rode elephants in the morning, played polo afterward. It was wonderful."

Veronica and Finn had grown used to the stories Marguerite told. They weren't surprised at all by what she told the group. She was by far the most experienced in the group. But Assai never could get over that a woman explored the world. After all, it was a man's word and a only a man's word in her world.

"You have traveled haven't you Marguerite? How do you do it?"

"Why act surprised? It does a woman good if she travels the world. I am so sick and tired of having to obey a man."

"You don't like obeying a man, huh? Then what were you and Roxton doing back at the cave Marguerite," laughed Finn. Both she and Veronica laughed, both knowing full well what Roxton and Marguerite were about to do.

"Oh shut up."

Marguerite got up and stomped off. "What's with her," asked Assai.

"Nothing. It's just a little joke between us," said Veronica.

A servant came in and went over to Assai. They talked for several seconds. Then the servant got up and walked out of the hut. "Finn, Challenger would like to see you. He wants you to bring his medical bag. He says that there is a wounded man over at that hut over there by Xma'Klee's hut."

"Oh. Ok. It was nice talking with you. We should do it again sometime." With that, Finn got up and waved Assai good-bye. She started to walk out of the hut. But then realized that she wasn't carrying the medical bag. She walked back in, picked it up and walked back out.

"Finn, don't be irreverent; this man needs help, fast," said Challenger. "And, what's 'guacamole', anyway?"

"Guacamole is a sort of creamed avacado salad," Finn answered. "Made right, it can be celestial, so I guess I can say, 'holy guacamole'. Hey: will this man need a transfusion? He looks pale, for an Indian."

"Yes," agreed Challenger. "Let's sterialize some instruments, people. Xma'Klee, will you see if some of his friends or relatives will each consent to give a pint of blood to him, to replace what he's lost? I'll show you how to get it into him with this equipment that Finn is getting ready."

After checking blood types (to Xma'Klee's intense interest), Challenger and Finn gave the injured warrior two pints of blood, and generally dressed his wounds, stitching the worst. Challenger quipped that he was grateful that the bottle of wine he'd brought was not a Classified Great Growth (Grand Cru Classe) like the Chateau Ducru-Beaucaillou that he'd served at dinner. Medically, it made little difference, and their wine stock was declining...

Later, with the warrior resting peacefully, the explorers gathered at the far end of the village, preparing to track the jaguar from where the man had been attacked. Challenger had electric lanterns, and they wanted to see at least in which direction the beast had gone.

"Finn", said Challenger, "I'd like you to stay here with the rest of our equipment, where you can help if that poor fellow wakes up."

"No way, George!", she exclaimed. "Whither thou goest, I go, also," she quoted impishly.

"I don't need a Biblical Ruth just now, Darling," he answered. "I want you safe where I don't have to worry about you, and we DO need someone to watch our things. Moreover, that cat may come HERE tonight, and you're a good shot. Did you bring that Winchester .44/40 carbine? It should work well at close range in dim light."

Marguerite saw the stubborn set of Finn's jaw and whispered quickly to Roxton. He said aloud, "Marguerite, will you stay wih Finn?" I don't want to worry about you, either, and she shouldn't be alone with our things with that jaguar prowling about."

"I'm not staying here, I said," snapped Finn. "I want to be with George. He may need me."

"Finn, please," pleaded Marguerite. "Someone has to stay, and I don't want to be left alone. Veronica has to guide the men. Won't you please help me? I don't want to be left here by myself, with all of these bloody natives."

Finn looked resolved, but said, "George, do I really have to stay? I'll do it if you insist, but my place is at your side."

"Please, Finn, " he replied. " I will miss you, greatly, but I cannot do this well if I'm worried sick that something may happen to the woman whom I love. And you and Marguerite are the logical ones to watch our things."

Finn reluctantly agreed, and kissed George good-bye, telling him to be careful and to return safely. "If anything happens to you, George, " she said. "I don't know what I'd do."

"You'd survive," he retorted. More gently, he added, "Nicole, you are a survivor. You lasted for years until you and I became 'we'. And you be careful, too. I might be even more devastated to lose you than you would to lose me. I mean that, Sweetheart. I never thought that I'd meet a woman who'd mean as much to me as Science does, but you are that woman. And that's the supreme accolade that I've ever given to another human being." He smiled weakly, genuinely concerned, and a little embarrassed. "Will you please stay with Marguerite?"

She noddded and hugged him fiercely.

"No worries, Finn," spoke Marguerite. " Listen to this, all of you." She rounded on Roxton. "Lord Roxton. Edward T. Malone. George Challenger. If you men DARE get yourselves killed tonight, do you know what I'm going to do? I am going back to the Treehouse, and I am getting down Veronica's ouija board, and I am going to summon up your sorry souls from the dark place that you rascals will surely go, and I am going to have the worst TANTRUM of my LIFE! Don't you DARE get hurt!." And a tear slid from each eyelid, which she, embarrassed, quickly wiped away.

Touched, Roxton reached out to caress her shoulder, and she was immediately in his arms, hugging him as if it might be their last embrace.

"Ahem," Veronica cleared her throat. "We need to get moving. The moon is already well up, and we can use the light while it lasts. Ned, will you stay with me? If we need to shoot, I can't do it, and John and George will be behind us."

She turned to the warrior whom Jacoba had designated to lead them to the site of the attack. ""Xu'ma, we'd better go now. I wouldn't want Marguerite to cry so much that she becomes dehydrated." Marguerite shot her an awful look, but Veronica hefted her bow, slung a quiver of arrows across her back, and led off. Someone, she reflected, had to get this belated show on the road.

Seeing her leave, Roxton, Malone, and Challenger shouldered their rifles and followed.

Somewhere in the nocturnal distance, a jaguar roared, the sound like gravel angrily agitated in a gourd.

As they walked out of the village, Roxton looked back and waved. He knew how much Marguerite loved him, which is why he waved. Doing so, always seemed to make her feel a little better, but not by much. Everyone, except Xu'ma, seemed to be walking in pairs. Ned and Veronica, Challenger and Roxton, and so on. Challenger and Roxton talked about what they were going to do once they found the Jaguar. Roxton started telling him his new plan. Challenger started laughing, telling Roxton to calm down. "Don't get too carried away, old boy. We needn't be doing all of that."

Veronica and Ned walked in silence. Ned was still thinking about what Veronica had said earlier. Deep down, he knew that's what she was thinking about. He certainly didn't miss that smile of hers when she was walking into her room when they were packing. He took that as a good sign. He knew that she was flirting, but when she acted like that, it got him every time. But he liked how she looked in that thong of hers. It was probably the first time she's actually let her guard down. Espiecally with Ned. A light green thong always looked nice on someone with her skin tone. He'd never seen something like it. Gladys sure never did anything like that.

"You know Ned, I didn't mean to sound harsh earlier," replied Veronica.

"Oh I know. I know it was just flirting. But I also know you were thinking about the love we made a while back," said Ned, smiling broadly. "They don't call me Edward "The Dog" Malone for nothing."

""The Dog"? Is that it? That's silly, if you ask me."

"Yeah well, I couldn't think of anything better."

Each smiled and laughed. "You know, I really did have a great time up there," said Malone. "Your attire, was really nice. Probably the best thing I've seen you in. When I saw you wearing that light green thong. Oh man." Malone blushed, laughing. "I'm glad you did it though. I always thought my first time would be with someone I loved greatly. I'll always remember it forever. The way I touched you and how your body always shuddered under my touch. The way our bodies touched each other. Veronica, I just want to let you know that it was very meaningful for me. To be able to do that to someone. I like how I can do that to you."

"Really?", Veronica blushed. "Well, you weren't to bad either. I couldn't have done it without the love I have for you."

"I couldn't have done it without you, you know. I have a great partner."

They walked on in silence for several minutes. Both listening to the sounds of the insects, their feet on the ground, the others talking. The two of them were content just walking in silence. They knew they wouldn't be seperated again. Making love bound them forever.

"Veronica, have you ever thought about our relationship? Where we would end up later on? I was thinking about that a lot while I was away."

Veronica walked in silence for a few minutes, contemplating his questions. She knew they would have this moment at some point. "I guess. I love you a lot, you know that. I guess I'd like to see where it ends up. I don't want to rush anything. Why?"

"Oh I was just wondering. Cause I think we're right for each other. The two of us make a great couple. I just wish we had the same kind of love as Roxton and Marguerite."

"But we do. It's just a different kind of love."

Before Ned could answer, there was a scream up ahead. And it didn't sound nice.

After an hour, the Zanga village had become quiet, save for the occasional barking of some cur that smelled a prowling ocelot, or a night bird calling in the trees. Once they heard the abbreviated scream of a small rodent being taken by an owl.

Finn and Marguerite drank tea from a vacuum bottle and sat in companionable silence, their rifles propped near them. They had elected to sit in the shadow of an abandoned hut without a light, although they'd left a fire burning in the stone pit in front of the hut. They hoped they would be difficult to see in the darkness, and that an intruder would look at the fire rather than behind the hut.

"Marguerite, may I ask you something?" queried Finn.

"I feel sure you will if you want to, " countered Marguerite. "I'm sorry, Finn. I'm just testy because I'm worried about John. Or maybe I'm testy because I'm a consistent bitch. I try to stay in character, even if I've been slipping lately. Anyway, what?"

"I've been thinking. I was too distracted to think about this before, but when John left you here, you whispered something to him just before he asked you to stay. What was it?"

"Why?", asked the ever-wary Marguerite.

"Because I think you told him that you wanted to stay. Were you just trying to be where it's safe, or were you trying to help George get me to stay?"

Marguerite gazed at her boots for a moment, then replied, "Finn, I treat you badly at times, and I'm still peeved that you and Veronica enjoyed it so much when you caught John and me in our little tryst today, but the truth is, I've become rather fond of you. And I love George. Not as you do, but as a sort of relative. And you're right: he is so brilliant a scientist that he IS sort of larger than life. I believe you called him an icon. I owe George many favors. The least I could do was ask John to tell me to stay, too. That way, you might accept his wishes more readily, and the truth is, you really shouldn't be here alone tonight. Nor should I. That beast or something else may show up here instead of where they're hunting it."

She continued, "Finn...Nicole...I know that I have an ugly streak in my soul, and that I'm a little 'different'. I'm too reserved to be as open with you as Veronica and you are with each other. You two are almost sisters. I don't know if I can ever give up that much of my privacy and reserve. I'm basically a pretty sneaky sort. I've done some bad things, and I've only recently begun to trust and accept that you all care for me in spite of myself. So, even though I can't open up enough to try for 'sisterhood', I want to reach out to you. I do care about you. Does that make any sense at all?"

Finn thought, then nodded. "It's okay, 'M.', she teased. "You can be our 'cousin'. Maybe 'sister' will come later. Just don't go for, 'mom'. That might be a little much for V. and me to take, okay?" She grinned, her teeth showing just enough in the shadows that Marguerite realized that she was smiling.

"Thank you, Finn," spoke Marguerite. "I want so desperately to belong, to be with friends. I've never really had any for long. And now, may I ask you something, in full confidence, of course?"

"Sure, Marguerite," said Finn. Then, "I'll tell you the truth: I haven't had a boob job. They're really mine. That was what you wanted to know, right?" Again, that wry urchin grin that Marguerite had come to associate with the girl from the future.

"Ummm, no, Finn, actually I had something else in mind." Then, in spite of herself, she laughed. "Did girls in your time really ask that sort of thing of one another? I take it a 'boob job' is that breast enhancement thing that you and Veronica were talking about last week?"

"Yeah," Finn answered. "But with all the strife, we didn't talk about it as much as I think my older sister and her friends did before the world fell apart. We had other priorities, just staying alive. But sometimes, girls would joke about how we wished things would get back to pre-disaster times, when a chick with small ones could find doctors everywhere who'd do that sort of surgery. Some girls even got their parents to pay for it as a graduation gift, believe it or not. They figured it would help them get husbands. I read some articles about that in old magazines, or friends who could read better than I could read them to groups of girls who'd get together and think what life had been like and how we might be able to make things better again."

"But I was teasing, yes. What did you really want to know?"

"This is very intimate," Marguerite admitted, "and if you tell me to shut up, I'll understand. But how do you and George reconcile your relationship? I know he loved Jessie very much. He used to speak wistfully of her and of how he should have been a better husband. Yet, here the two of you are in an adulterous relationship, and he clearly loves you, intensely. And I know that your love for him is very real, too. How do you deal with that? What if we find a way off this cursed Plateau? What will the two of you do about Jessie?"

"We have talked about that, quite a bit," admitted Finn. "I know he still loves her, but she isn't here, and we may never get off the Plateau, in which case, it's sort of a moot point, except morally. George is quite moral, though, so even that bothers him. We'll have to cross that bridge if we have to, because I know he'll go back to London if he can, at least to gather supplies for another expedition. But we love one another more than I thought it possible a woman could love a man, and he says he feels the same about me. Jessie and others that he dated were just not as suited for him. They didn't share his intellectual curiosity, while I love to spend time in the lab with him, or just sit with him reading, learning new words and discussing a book."

"And, as long as you're surely wondering, I do things in bed that women of this time wouldn't usually do, or even think of. My time had experienced a sexual revolution, and I looked at some books that would be banned today. Other girls and I talked about what we did to drive our boyfriends nuts. Some of that was new to George, and he really likes it; it's a whole new, more relaxed, sensual world for him. But the issue of Jessie is a troubling one. George says that he will just have to tell her about us and 'face the music', as he put it. He doesn't want a divorce, which would disgrace them in this time, and he won't set her aside without support, either. But we will be together, even if I have to live near him as a 'kept woman'. After all, there aren't many jobs that I could get in London today, with my background."

"But, what if you become pregnant", Marguerite persisted. "George doesn't have children, and I'm not sure he wants any."

"I know he didn't," said Finn, "but he's thinking about it. I told him that I want his child, maybe two. It would be awful if a genius like George died without progeny. Just think what a son of his might be, if George lived long enough to teach him and inspire him to follow in his footsteps. I think I'd be the right mother for his children, too. Together, we might raise a son who could stand in his father's boots. Who knows what wonders he might create? And George will have to decide fairly soon. He isn't getting any younger."

"You wouldn't trick him and get preggers 'accidentally', would you? " Marguerite wondered. "I can tell you, that wouldn't be the way to do things."

"No, Marguerite. I realize that. I'm on a pill that he devised, to keep me from becoming pregnant. We plan to share it with you and Veronica soon, now that we know it seems to work. It controls estrogen supply or something. We plan to market it if we get back to civilization. It's based on an idea that I had, because we had such things in my time, although fresh ones were hard to find after things went to Hell. Most pharmacies had trouble getting new, fresh drugs. Those pills were at a premium, when available. But I won't lie to George. I couldn't stand it if he found out. Too many couples do things like that, and it breaks them up. I want a baby, but I want even more to have my man know that I wouldn't betray his trust."

"You really ARE stuck on George, aren't you?", marvelled Marguerite. "I know that I love John, but I don't think I'll ever lose who I am, otherwise. I'll still retain my individuality to a large degree. I hope. Of course, I won't really betray him in any major way, but I don't think I can ever open up as completely to him as you have to George."

Finn twiddled her thumbs nervously, debating whether to say what she had in mind.

"Finn? What's wrong? Is there more? I swear I'll keep your secrets. That's one of my few good qualities. I do keep secrets."

"Marguerite, don't you dare tell this to anyone, and it's just sort of an example of how much I care instead of a secret wish, anyway. But the truth is, as much as I feared being taken by those slavers in my time or those I know are here on the Plateau...if it was what George Challenger insisted on in his woman, I'd kneel at his feet and beg him to collar me as his girl. And I would feel more important being his slave than I would as a queen anywhere else. Now, do you see why I wanted him not to leave me behind, wondering what's happening to him and the others, out there in the night after that damned jaguar, supernatural or not?" She sniffed, and Marguerite could see her hands rise to wipe away tears that the night largely hid.

"Oh, Finn," exclaimed Marguerite. "George wouldn't ask you to be his slave. On the contrary, I think he's remarkably enlightened for a man. Part of what he sees in you is your independence, your inquiring mind, your lust to learn. To a considerable extent, I think he sees you as an equal or at least, as a junior partner. He loves you, darling. He doesn't want you on your knees."

"He definitely does, for some things," Finn said, rather smugly. "You can guess what I mean. Marguerite, I was just giving an example of how much I want him. I feel sorry for Jessie, and I'd tolerate her if she'd tolerate me, which I guess is less likely. I'd even feel ashamed before her, and beg her forgiveness and offer to help her with housework. Whatever. But I'm not giving up George for Jessie, T-rex, Hell, or high water. Does that answer your question.?"

Marguerite smiled, reached over and took Finn's hands in hers and squeezed them. "You go, girl," she said, using a term she'd learned from Finn talking to her and to Veronica.

Marguerite stood, and walked over to the Thermos to refill her cup. She felt a sudden sting in her left side. "Ouch!." she exclaimed. "Damned mosquitos!" Then, she saw the thin dart protruding from her blouse, just as she was overcome by dizziness and collapsed onto the sleeping bags next to the vacuum bottle.

Finn heard Marguerite's exclamation and looked to her left just as her friend dropped. She started to rise, to go to Marguerite, when she felt a prick in her right shoulder. A dart! she realized, and reached to pull it out before any poison on it could get into her bloodstream. But whatever element was daubed on the point of the dart acted quickly. No doubt it was some nerve poison that began acting in milliseconds after entering the human bloodstream. Finn dropped the dart and reached for Summerlee's .38 in her holster. She drew the Webley and aimed toward the forest behind the hut, where the dart had come from. But before she could squeeze the trigger, she felt intense vertigo and dropped to her knees, the gun slipping from her grasp. Seconds later, she slumped forward, barely registering the impact as her body hit the grass.

Three men came out of the jungle and rapidly approached the fallen women, one with a Bergmann submachine gun at the ready, eyes sweeping the village for anything that moved.

One went to Marguerite and another knelt by Finn. He rolled her half over and unbuckled her gun belt, tossing it aside after returning the Webley to its holster. He positioned her carefully on her stomach and drew her wrists behind her and expertly bound them with cord resembling that used on window blinds.

He spoke to his companion, who had just removed Marguerite's gun belt and positioned her like Finn. He had begun to bind her wrists, also. The first man spoke: "Be sure to tie her right, but not too tight. We don't want her blood flow cut off; just be sure she's snug enough to not even think she can get loose. And take off her boots before you tie her ankles."

"Don't worry, boss," the other man replied. "I'll frisk her, too, like you said. If YOU think this broad is dangerous, I figure she probably is." He finished tying Marguerite's hands and slipped off her boots. He glanced inside, saw something in a thin leather pouch sewn inside the left boot, and shook it. A switchblade knife fell out. The man hefted it, flicked it open, and looked at it in the dim light. It was clean and lightly oiled, and the snick of its opening suggested that it was well maintained. He closed the knife, moved the safety button to the 'on" position, and tossed the knife to the other man, who caught it deftly. Crossing Marguerite's elegant ankles, he bound them with practiced skill, and ran his hands carefully over her body, unbuttoning her blouse enough to check under her camisole.

The first man similarly felt carefully over Finn's body, removing a Swiss Army knife from the right pocket of her snug black shorts. He ran his hands around her waistband, finding nothing, and checked under her crop top. Finding her bra, he was puzzled by the lace and Spandex garment, which hadn't yet emerged onto the underwear scene in this time, but decided to leave searching it until later, when he had more time. With her hands tied behind her, Finn would be unable to reach any small weapons hidden there, anyway.

Taking another length of cord from his vest, he quickly bound Finn's wrists a second time, with fewer loops this time. He ran the cord twice under her shorts belt and finished tying the wrists, leaving them fastened to her belt. She would now be unable to slip her hands around in front when she regained conciousness, and Finn was already stirring, having gotten only a light dose of the drug before she had boldly yanked the dart from her flesh. He sat her up, and pried her mouth open wide enough to tie a simple gag in place, then lifted her and turned toward the river, where the men had left their canoes.

The second man called softly to the first. "You want this one gagged, too, boss?"

"No," the leader answered. "She got a full dose; she'll be out for a couple of hours. This slut is already waking up, so I didn't want to take any chances on her yelling, though she should be groggy for a few more minutes. Just tie Marguerite's wrists or elbows to her body and bring her along. We need to get the devil out of here before some savage or dog comes by." He turned to the man waiting watchfully with the Bergmann. "Bring these girls' boots. We may let them have them back later, when they need to walk to the headquarters compound. Take their guns, too. No need to leave them around for those Indians to find..."

"Yessir, Mr. Burton," said the man with the automatic weapon. He held Marguerite upright long enough for his companion to tie her elbows to her sides, then picked up both pair of boots and the guns, and the three men moved off quickly toward the river, several hundred yards distant.

After bundling the girls into two canoes, setting them down on blankets to avoid bruising them, Avery Burton and his two thugs set off downriver, helped by the current to clear the Zanga tribal area long before they were discovered missing.

After a few minutes, Finn's head cleared enough for her to look around and gradually absorb her circumstances. She remembered Marguerite, and looked around desperately for her.

Burton saw her, and said, "Don't worry, baby. Your pal Marguerite is in the next canoe, tied up about like you. You'll both be fine in a while, but she got more of that drug in her than you, so she'll be out for maybe an hour or two, depending on how resistant she is to it. As soon as we get a little further from the Zanga village, I'll take out that gag if you swear not to yell. If you do, a better, larger gag goes in. Understand?"

Finn considered briefly, then nodded. She stealthily tested her bonds and realized that her wrists were anchored at the back of her belt. She didn't recognize Burton or his cronies, having not yet come to the Plateau when Burton had made a previous appearance. But she could tell by his demeanor and appearance and by the way she was bound that he was a man to be reckoned with. She doubted that he was a slaver; he was obviously not from the Plateau. Why, then, had he captured Marguerite and herself when they'd foolishly dropped their guard as they talked about intense, intimate matters?

After some ten minutes, Burton helped her sit and removed the gag. "Want a drink?", he asked.

"Sure, how about a gin-and-tonic?" she ventured. "Not that I usually drink with strangers who kidnap me."

"Sweetie, let me fill you in on something," said Burton. "I kind of admire your pluck, but for now, you'd be wise not to say anything that might be construed as being sarcastic. Now, here's a canteen. Just water. We'll see about gin later, when we're better acquainted."

She swallowed, then asked the predictable questions about who he was and why he'd stolen her and Marguerite.

"I'll tell you and Marguerite all about that later. She knows me, although I imagine she thinks she killed me in a tunnel explosion the last time I was here. Briefly, I'm here to help a distinguished German scientist see if he can turn animals into biological weapons and to get revenge on Marguerite. She's the only one who ever defeated me, after a fashion. And, I want your friend Veronica. I didn't quite get away with her last time. I have plans for her. Where is she, by the way, and who are you?"

Finn gave a brief account of having left her city after a natural disaster to live with Veronica, avoiding that she was from the future. Burton probably wouldn't believe her, and she saw no reason to give up information she didn't have to.

"Are you Avery Burton," she asked. "If you are, I've heard about you."

"So, I'm famous," Burton smirked. "Yes, that's me, and I can't wait to see the look on Marguerite's face when she recognizes me. I was incredibly lucky to survive that tunnel mess and get off the Plateau.

"Look," said Finn. "Veronica hasn't done anything to you, and she's my best friend, ever. Why not free Marguerite and put her ashore before she wakes up? She won't have any idea who took her or why, and she can eventually find her way home. And leave Veronica alone. I'll serve you however you say, and I promise to do my best to please. Veronica is too wild, anyway. You'd have to tie her down every time you had her brought to you. I'll be a lot better catch for a man, and you already have me. Veronica is dangerous and hard to capture. Please?"

"Finn? Was that your name?", replied Burton. "You're a courageous little cookie, and I kind of like you. But I've already got you, and you'll do what I say whether I have Veronica or not. In fact, when I get her, I may make each of you a hostage for the other's good behavior. I intend to have her, and Marguerite stays with me. When I leave, depending on how mad I am, I'll either feed her to crocodiles or sell her to a slaver I know. You'll probably be sold, too, after you've been trained first, which will be fun for me and my boys. If you're lucky, one of them or the professor we work for may want you. Otherwise, you'd bring a pretty good price. But Veronica is definitely leaving the Plateau with me. After I'm done with her, I know a certain sheikh on the Arabian peninsula who'll pay a lot to add a hot blonde to his harem. By then, she won't have so much starch in her. In fact, that guy might pay more for you than these jerks here on the plateau would. Maybe you two can see Arabia together." He laughed, and it was a nasty sound. This was obviously a man without scruples, and with a bitter grudge.

Shortly after, he signalled, and both canoes pulled into shore and offloaded their passengers, willing and unwilling.

Burton blew a whistle, and men emerged from the jungle ahead. They took the women up a trail to a horse-drawn cart that had iron bars along its sides above a blue wooden frame. The rear gate was opened, and Finn saw three nude Zanga maidens sitting inside, wearing handcuffs and with leg irons that attached to a bar that ran the length of the cart. They looked frightened.

She had been allowed to don her boots for the walk here. Now, they were removed, and she was untied and ordered to strip to her earrings while two men held guns on her. Burton placed her and Marguerite's clothing in a burlap bag that he tied to the saddle horn of his horse. Burton took out handcuffs that Finn noted had only one link between the bracelets. He motioned to her by twirling his finger that she was to turn, and she put her wrists behind her, and obediently faced away from him as he locked the bracelets on her. He ruffled through her hair, finding nothing hidden there, but Finn noted his thoroughness with dismay.

She was helped into the cart, where her ankles were snapped into leg irons with the chain twisted twice around the long bar. She noticed that the bed of the cart was lined with blankets, which certainly beat sitting on a bare wooden floor.

"No reason for these girls to see where we're going," Burton told his men. "Phil, get in there with these blindfolds and put the ladies in the dark for awhile."

As her padded leather blindfold was buckled in place, Finn reflected that at least, they'd remain alive for now. Why keep them from seeing where they were going, if they were about to be killed? She decided that Burton was telling the truth about his intentions, at least for the moment. One of the Zanga girls whimpered as her blindfold was fastened and Phil snickered. What a creep, thought Finn, making a mental note to kill Phil if the opportunity ever arose.

Marguerite was then cuffed, blindfolded, and laid inside next to Finn. Phil chained her ankles like the other girls' and then got out and the door was shut and padlocked. The men mounted their horses, and a driver swung up onto the seat of the cart, and the group moved down the jungle trail.

Professor Gloop's trusted lab assistant, ma-Dook, walked into Professor's private study located in the primary laboratory. The professor was washing up after the surgery.

"The slaver, Burton, is arriving. He has five women with him." ma-Dook said with a bit of disgust in his voice. "He has two white women with him."

Professor Gloop was buttoning up his bush shirt when he stopped and looked questioning at ma-Dook. "White women, huh... That can only mean one thing. Is Alpha Jag 1 in the cage?" Professor Gloop reached for his Luger, checked to make sure a round was chambered and a fresh magazine loaded. He did not trust this treasure hunter and slaver. He finished buttoning his bush shirt and combed his hair.

"Yes, the jag is in cage, ready, still sedated. You have a plan for the white women?" ma-Dook said opening the door for the Professor.

"Yes and no, ma-Dook, just be ready to play it by ear with me. Burton does have us outgunned. I am not too keen on slavery; especially, Mr. Burton's get rich scheme with auctioning women off as sex slaves and as novelties." With that statement ma-Dook grunted in agreement. 

As Burton's caravan was approaching the cave, one of his riders cued the horse into a canter to gain some distance between the caravan and himself. He came to a complete stop when he heard a certain bird call. He replied with the correct mimic of another jungle bird. A man stepped out of the jungle. He was armed with a bolt action rifle. He beckons them to follow them. If the had not of responded with the correct bird call a 7.92mm Maxim MG08 was ready, concealed and entrenched, to rid of any imposter's. Burton's party never knew a heavy machine gun had the bead on them for the last 500 meters.

The cargo was placed in two separate cells carved into the calcium carbonate walls. Marguerite and Finn were in the same cell. The cells were typical, a single pallet for sleeping, and a bucket for nature. Finn find herself shivering from the sudden temperature drop in the cave. She grabbed Marguerite by both arms and carefully dragged her onto the sleeping pallet. She brushed the dirt off of Marguerite's smooth skin and sat next to her for warmth. Finn had subconsciously back in her survival mode back in the twenty-first century. Finn could hear in the other cell one of the Zanga girls cried. Finn put her arm around the still drugged Marguerite and clenched her fist. Her mind was thinking of what order she would castrate her kidnappers and how to escape. She could also hear sounds of animals in another part of the cave.

Professor Gloop and ma-Dook were out by the river where a ferric cage was anchored. Professor Gloop inserted a snub key into the bronze alloy collar of Alpha Jag 1. A metal plate spring open exposing the control panel. He flipped the safety catches up and proceeded to turn on the collar, switch the safety off, set the transmitter to the desired frequency, and finally arming the cat to the highest level of lethality. After locking the control panel and opening the gate to the cage, both Gloop and ma-Dook walked quickly back to the rear entrance to the cave.

They were walking hurried to Professor Gloop's primary lab when one of Burton's men told them that Mr. Burton was waiting in Gloop's study. Ma-Dook and the Professor both looked at each. As they walked past the cells holding the captive women. Professor Gloop had to stop and walked back to look at one particular cell. He could not believe it. He knew that lady whom the Blondie was cuddling with. He was disgusted and insulted that the women were not clothed. He and his men had dignity, even through they were plotting to rule the plateau. They would do it with style. Professor Gloop shook his head and steamed off towards his study.

"How dare Mr. Burton treat women like this. Particularly, Lady Krux. Ma-Dook, go and fetch the women their clothing."

ma-Dook went looking for Burton, who refused to return the women's clothing, at least for the moment.

"I want them feeling vulnerable for a while", he said. "Later, if the Professor insists, they can dress, but it will make them harder to break, and they are very resourceful. Marguerite, in particular, will try to hide improvised weapons if she can. I think this blonde will, too. If she's with Marguerite, she probably is somewhat like her, and I sense she isn't as submissive as she seems." Nevertheless, he didn't want to upset the Professor, so he went looking for him.

"Herr Doktor," he said. "I understand your human compassion, but bear with me for another hour or so. I suggest that we question the white women as to what their friends are doing. We know from our sources in the Zanga village that they are looking for the Spirit Jaguar, and we don't know what they know. They may find a trail that leads here. Let me string one of those women up by the wrists and see if the other will talk to spare her a whipping. That may work better than threatening one of them directly. They seem close to one another."

Gloop suppressed an expression of disgust. He thought for a moment, then said, "We need information, it is true, Avery, but I will not condone such methods, at least for now. Do this instead: put the girls in Room 3. It has an iron pole in the middle to which you can chain them. Before you put them there, I will place a microphone with a strong transmitter in it within the room. "

"We will listen nearby and overhear their conversation. They are bound to speak to one another. Give them water first, and be sure that Baroness Krux is fully awake. If we hear nothing useful in two hours, let them dress and return them to their cell. If you must chain women, fasten their hands in front, at least while they are in their cell. We need not be barbarians to achieve our goals here. I will place the microphone now. If I cannot find a place to hide it, blindfold the women before placing them in the room. They will not see the microphone, and I will adjust it to avoid any squelch noises. It is quite powerful. We should hear whatever is said."

Burton reluctantly nodded, and went off to be sure that Baroness Krux was concious. Or, Miss flipping Smith, as she'd also been called, he remembered angrily.

ma-Dook found an empty wooden box, which he set near the back of Room 3. He placed the microphone behind it, checked to be sure that the girls chained to the pole wouldn't have enough freedom to reach the box and look behind it, then went to tell Burton to bring up the girls. He was used to the concept of female slavery, being from the Plateau, but it was not practiced by the Zanga, and he disapproved of Burton. But this idea seemed a good one, to get information.

Marguerite and Finn gratefully drank from the jug that Phil offered as another man covered them with a Colt .45 automatic like those often carried by Malone and Roxton. Phil handed them a washbasin and soap with towels and told them to clean up. He offered a hairbrush, and they gratefully used that, too.

Finn had briefed Marguerite on what had happened as soon as she was coherent, so she wasn't surprised to see Avery Burton swagger in a few minutes after Phil had removed the basin and the jug.

The first words that passed between them are best not repeated in polite company. Marguerite expressed keen disapointment that Burton had survived and escaped the Plateau, let alone returned. He, in turn, told her that he would be avenged. "No one beats Avery Burton and lives, Marguerite. You may just survive if you play up to my colleague, Professor Gloop, who it seems, knows you from your time in Germany. He refuses to believe that you were a spy. Baron Krux was a college friend of his, unfortunately, and I am technically in Gloop's employment at the moment. 'At the moment', Marguerite: things may change. Don't get above yourself."

"Gloop insists on talking to you, himself, as soon as he finishes some egghead experiment in the lab. He can tell you better than I can what he plans to do here. He wants you clothed again, which would be a visual loss, from a male viewpoint. And I don't like the idea of letting you have places to hide things with which you might cause mischief."

"We struck a compromise," Burton continued. "Here are your knickers, and pretty little ones they are, beige satin with some nice lace. Like you, baby, they have class. Its what's under your noble exterior that bothers me. You do come off as a lady, and that works on Gloop. Finn, here's your little black knickers and this funny thing that you wear over your boobs. What is it, anyway? I thought I knew my way around under women's clothes, and I've never seen one." He checked the black bra carefully, kneading the foam filling under the lace-trimmed cups, then tossed the bra and panties to her through the bars.

"It's called a 'bra', Sir, short for 'brassiere'", said Finn. It's a bust support garment. And it looks pretty, and some guys like to see their girlfriends or wives take one off, especially if they do it gracefully and a little coquetteishly. It's common where I came from. "

"Mr. Burton, Sir," she continued, "Please think about what I said: I'll be like, totally submissive to you if you'll just leave Veronica alone. I'm much more the girl you'd want. I know you hate Marguerite too much to free her, but please don't hurt her. She'll come around, too, I know she will. I'll talk some sense into her, and she'll be worth keeping around."

Burton gave her a jaundiced look. Was this chick for real? She was saying what he wanted to hear, but maybe too easily, although she did seem to love Veronica and wish her safe.

"Is Finn your real name," he demanded. "What kind of broad has a name like that?"

Finn shrugged, "It's short for my last name, Finnegan. Nicole Elizabeth Finnegan. My friends just call me Finn as a nickname and because it's the first name I used when we met. What does it matter? I'll soon be wearing your collar and whichever slave name you choose to give me. Probably something like Tawnee or Tammy or Tina. Or Misty. I used to know some dancers with names like that. I guess they'd fit slaves, too, and I know that girls are usually re-named when collared. Whatever you choose is fine, just please don't hurt Marguerite. She'll be good, I promise. She's just upset now, and not thinking clearly. She gets like that, sometimes."

"I like those names, Finn. They fit. Maybe we'll call Marguerite, "Misty". That'd be a hoot. I can use a laugh. But, for you, I think we'll go with a variation on "Nicole". You're Nikki, now, Baby. Remember that."

"Yes, Mr. Burton," Nikki acknowledged. She had stood, meekly holding the underwear in front of her, turning it in her hands nervously, like a schoolgirl called on the carpet by the principal. She put on her clothes, and stood, eyes humbly downcast.

Marguerite gave her an incredulous look: this wasn't the Finn she knew. Then, it struck her: she had herself played up to male captors, including Tribune, the reptilian (in more ways than one) ruler of a pseudo-Roman outpost, and a black giant whom she had deceived until her friends could impale his back with darts that put him down until he could be re-sealed in a cave for what she hoped would be eternity. She decided not to admonish Finn, and ask her when Burton left what she thought she was doing. For now, she decided to support Finn's charade.

"Finn, I can't believe that you're not showing more resolve. You're too good to be this villain's plaything!"

"Marguerite, get real!", Finn/Nikki blurted. "Mr. Burton is our master now. No one even knows where we are. I respect strong men, and now one owns me. I'm not going to cause any trouble, and if you're as smart as I know you are, you won't either. Cool off and think it over. We can do okay here if we behave." She looked furtively at Burton, then sudenly dropped her eyes submissively and a little flirtatiously. She played with her hair self-conciously, her weight on the right leg, the left flexed a little at the knee. She looked both shy and very desirable.

Marguerite shot her a look of disbelief.

"Nikki, Marguerite, " commanded Burton. "Go stand by the back wall and touch your noses to it. Put your hands behind you. I'm going to apply your bracelets and take you up to wait for Prof. Gloop. And, Marguerite, if I was you, I'd be trying hard to convince him that you're really an innocent noblewoman whose dignity is being abused."

"That shoud be easy," she retorted. "My dignity IS being seriously abused. Avery, Finn may be right. I know that we're at your mercy, or probable lack of same. If I behave, will you at least leave Veronica alone? I agree with Finn about that, and it might make me rethink my situation." Nevertheless, she joined Finn at the wall and placed her wrists behind her. Burton was amused to note that, where Finn had immediately turned and walked quickly to the wall, trying to please, Marguerite had adopted an insolent, if quite sexy, saunter, and rubbed her arms before draping them gracefully at the small of her back. Burton was surprised to see how much "mileage" Marguerite had milked from strolling the eight or so steps to the wall.

"I may think about it, Marguerite," he answered, "but I know you. That's why I left you last time, when I was tempted to take you up on your offer to do whatever I wanted. Now, stand really still while Phil and I come in and cuff you girls."

Handcuffs in place, the women were fitted with leather collars for the moment. Burton told them that metal ones would follow, as soon as they could be made to fit each. He leashed them with two-foot lengths of light chain, which he locked to rings on the collars.

They were led up two long ramps and up a flight of stairs, the men supporting them on the stairs, in case they stumbled.

Phil opened a heavy wooden door, and they were directed down a hall excavated out of the natural limestone, and carpeted. There were several rooms, some obviously used to store supplies. They stopped in front of one with a brass "3" on it, and Burton shoved open the door and led them in.

He led them to an upright iron post in the center of the room, some three inches thick. He took lengths of chain that a man brought in and locked a loop of it around Marguerite's waist. He then looped the chain twice around the pole and locked that, then fastened the remaining chain around Finn's waist and secured it. He removed their leashes, passing them to Phil.

"How about something to eat, Avery?" asked Marguerite. In a couple of hours, we're going to be getting hungry."

You'll get a bowl of stew like the Zanga girls will, in an hour or so, and water, when you're back in your cell. After that, what food and water you get depends on your attitude. I'd think about that, Marguerite. You've got a mouth on you, and you'd better be careful how you run it. I'll leave you girls alone for now. Dr. Gloop will be along before too long."

He let his gaze cruise over Finn, who was watching him with a little fear and what seemed to be admiration. He reached around and slapped her on the butt and kissed her. "Looking good, Nikki, " he commented.

"Thank you, Mr. Burton. I'm going to be the best girl you ever owned, I swear. If you do capture Veronica, I want to be sold with her to your Arab friend. The people who'd buy me on this Plateau don't treat their slaves as well as he probably would. Just don't hurt V. I know she'll listen if I tell her where we stand." She looked into Burton's eyes imploringly.

"Nikki, I gotta hand it to you," he mused. "You're either 'way more intelligent than most civilized gals, or you're one hell of an actress. I guess we'll see in the days ahead. But if you're conning me, you'll regret it."

"Yes, Sir," she mumbled. "I mean, yes, Master. I'm not acting. I'm just smart enough to see where my best hope lies, and I want to save my friends, too. Give them a chance: they'll come around."

Burton gave her a lingering, appraising look, then nodded. "Okay, Nikki. I promise that I'll try not to hurt Veronica when I collect her. I don't want her damaged any more than you do, although our reasons may be different. Ta, ladies. Kneel when Gloop comes in. My guess is that it will shock him and get him to treat you gallantly. We can play it that way for awhile if I have to. Adieu, Baroness Krux! Miss (Bleeping) Smith! " He doffed his hat in a mocking salute to Marguerite and the men left, using a heavy padlock on the door as they went.

A little over two hours had past with disappointing results. None of the two ladies talked about anything of use. Finn had asked Marguerite about the look Marguerite made when Burton mention Professor Gloop's name. She could not place his name, but she had heard it somewhere and it was driving her insane trying to place the name with a face.

Burton puffed out his chest and declared, "See, here doktor, you cannot use the civilized approach, not here on this plateau anyways. Like me have them and before first light they will be talking up a storm."

"First, let me get something straight, Herr Burton. I am a Professor. I was working on my doctoral thesis when I had to flee my country. Second, if you use your cat-o-nine tails on the ladies. No one is going to even buy them for their harem or what they call it with their back scared. Third, quit rushing me. I still have to monitor..."

"No, Professor, your wrong. I use a bull whip. And I do not care what you did back in your Motherland with that pony. I am here to make a profit. You said if I helped you, you would make me a rich man. Right now, I feel like you are depraving me of my hard earned rewards." Burton was getting agitated.

"We call our country the Fatherland. It was not a pony but an Oldenburg warm blood. Yes, I will make you a very wealthy man. However, patience is greatly needed. You mention earlier you like the Blondie."

"Yes, Nikki."

"Nikki, yes, you can do whatever you want with her after the Zanga village, but for now do as I say. Have Lady Krux dressed and sent to my study. I feel like a chat about the good old days. Get some sleep Burton you look tired."

"Sure, anything you say boss and you don't look too good yourself." With that Burton walked off to undertake his task.

Professor Gloop was taken back by his departing statement. He could not recall the last time he had a good nights rest. He turned off the microphone and turned to ma-Dook. ma-Dook was stretched out on the floor with his hands under his head for a pillow. He was sleeping soundly. Professor Gloop really did not want to wake his fatigued friend. He shook ma-Dook awake told him what was going on and asked if he could monitor the Alpha Jag's vitals on the portable remote long range module in the lab. He agreed and trudged off. Now, he would be alone with the mysterious Lady Krux.

Gloop was in his study washing his face when he looked into the cracked mirror. The mirror was cracked in the upper right hand corner and gave multiple images. Which seemed to amplify the weariness of the Professor's face. He wish he could have time to shave. He combed his hair, retucked his bush shirt, straightened his safari jacket and gun belt, and made his study a little more presentable. Professor Gloop made an extra effort to file away any papers on the killer jaguar. He was cleaning his monocle when the door opened and Lady Krux stepped in. The guard closed the door behind her. Professor Gloop snapped his heels and made a crisp, short bow in her direction.

"Lady Krux, it is a pleasure to meet you again. Please have a seat. We have much to talk about." He gestured shyly to a chair.

"I do not believe I have had the pleasure?"

"Sure you have my Lady. I have changed slightly." His hand rubbed the bread he had and he looked at his worn clothes. "However, you have changed as well. Why are you with an English expedition? Unless, you are still in the service for our country's intelligence service, yes?"

"I'm sorry when did we supposedly meet?"

Professor Gloop gave a chuckle. "Back in Berlin, late fall or early winter of 1917. Would you like some tea, Lady Crux?"

"Yes, thank you"

Professor Gloop poured her a cup of tea. He poured himself a cup of over cooked cold, actually lukewarm, coffee. "Since, you are playing the part of the English explorer. I thought you would enjoy some tea."

"How thoughtful." Marguerite raised her cup and bowed her head. Her mind was racing. Who was this person? Where is Finn and is she ok? Where was Roxton when she needed him the most.

"We met at a formal ball. I was invited because I had just won the Blue Max for my victories in the air. Although, I could not danced because I was recovering from a round in my leg. You were always with the older gentlemen. The ones who were senior in rank or in the secret services. We were introduced through my best friend and wing man, Baron Krux."

Marguerite heart jumped into her throat. Now she knew who he was. Mata Hari was not the only woman in the war getting secrets. The only reason she is famous today is because she was caught and excuted. Unlike Marguerite who had a few close calls, but always managed to slip past them. Marguerite had married Baron Krux under false pretenses to gain an inroad to higher level information. Through her clandestine mission Baron Krux was killed by a double agent. At the formal ball in Berlin was she able to finally meet her husband's best friend and war buddy. 

"Baron Gloop, or Major Gloop, a mountaineer officer of the WGB (Wuerttemberg Gebirgs-Battaillon) and later an ace pilot. Multiple recipient of the Iron Cross and the Blue Max, a decorated war hero. My, you have changed. Tell me what exactly happened with that pony, your fiance and you becoming an outcast?"

Marguerite was buying time. Having been a triple agent in the Great War she had acquired a few enemies on all sides of the trenches. Poor Baron Krux was a scapegoat in trying to acquire the plans of the synchronized machine guns mounted behind the propeller of the airplane.

"Ivan was not a pony. He was a Oldenburg warm blood dressage horse. Ivan belonged to my then fiance which was a present from me. I wanted to train him to be a superb jumper and had the theoretical knowledge of boosting his performance further thought my implants. Of course, poor, poor Ivan died and my fiance screamed bloody murder. The rest is, as they say, history."

"I'm sorry to hear."

"Why did you betray us? It was Serbia's fault and yet all the opposing countries leaders punish us. Why? I was an honorable soldier. I was spit upon. I know you had something to do with Jan's death. So, I left and went back to my former studies. Only to be run out of my beloved country for the somewhat radical experimentations I was conducting. I now know you where a spy, probably still are. I have no feeling of killing you for what you did to my best friend. This god for saken plateau can do that easier than I. I just want a... no, I want some confessions from you."

"You know I will not give you the satisfaction, Baron Gloop."

Professor Gloop let out a sigh and shook his head. "Do you know what Herr Burton is wanting impatiently to do to you Lady Krux." He did not want to tell her of his distrust of the bastard for Marguerite would have used that information to her advantage.

"We have crossed past before Professor Gloop. Actually, I was curious as to why you are here, if I my ask." Marguerite was employing her talent of gleaming information from men.

"I was running guns to some revolutionaries in Ecuador when I encounter severe turbulence and had to bail out of my Albatross. Luckily, I found most of my belongings and been here ever since. I understand your animosity towards Herr Burton. I needed a local guide. Besides,..." Professor Gloop noticed that Marguerite was glancing about his study. He knew she was scrutinizing his study for information. He was glad he made an extra effort to conceal his papers on bioweapons. "...he knows a way off this bloody plateau. For his services I will pay him in gold and he will show me the way."

Marguerite's interest perked up. She did not know it if was from the mention of a way off the plateau or the gold. She had to obtain more information.

Professor Gloop looked at his pocket watch. "My time flies when visiting with old friends. It is rather late. I imagine you are quite exhausted from the ordeal of earlier this evening. Oh, when would you like your wake up call?" He said with a sly smile.

"How about the key to the cell door?" Marguerite slyly replied. Professor Gloop put his hands in his trouser's pockets and laughed. That was the Lady Krux he knew. He had forgiven Lady Krux for what she did. However, he wanted to level the playing field with the French, English, and, the barbarians, the Americans.

"No, sorry, afraid not. How about breakfast? Our local chef can prepare a lovely dish of gourmet monkey. Unfortunately, we have no choice wine or brew to compliment the meal. Except for some tea and coffee."

"Why did you kidnap us?" She ask out of the blue.

This caught Professor Gloop off guard. He scramble his thoughts to answer. "Well, it was part of the deal with Burton for his help."

"Help with what, Baron Gloop?"

"Good night, Lady Krux."

The guard escorted Marguerite back to her cell. Finn was asleep, curled up in a gray blanket. Professor Gloop took the finishing gulp of his acidity black coffee. He set the cup down on his desk and walked to the primary lab. ma-Dook was seated at a table leaning back in a chair looking at the circular screen where graph paper was recording the status of Alpha Jag 1. ma-Dook looked at Professor Gloop and smiled.

"Women with blue eyes has a temptest body. Have a good chat?"

"I was disappointed but a nice change to talk with a temptess. ma-Dook, who is your most trusted worker here?"

"It depends...Why Professor?"

"I want a guard to watch over the captive women. I might be a mad scientist but I will not allow the women to be taken advantage of."

"Hm, Ezzu, would be the guard. He can be trusted. He likes other men. That is why he was abolished from the village. He was caught with another witch doctor from a another village." ma-Dook said nodding his head.

"Ezzu? The person who cooks for us?"

"No, Ezzu, one who takes care of elephants"

"Oh..."

Avery Burton went back to Room 3 and rolled in a tray with a bowl of stew and water and coffee on it.

He had Finn kneel and began feeding her bites of stew, telling her that she was to take each bite from his fingers or the Spoons daintily and gracefully. He was amazed how well she did this, and with no argument.

"May I ask a question?" she wanted to know.

"Sure, Nikki. I'm in a good mood. Ask away."

"You're training me, aren't you? Getting me to take food from your hand, letting me know that I have to please you to eat? Having me move like the slave girl that I'm becoming."

"You really are smart, Nikki. I'm impressed. I like intelligent girls." He offered water.

When she had eaten, Burton removed her waist chain, leashed her, and took her back to her cell, trailed by his man Ed, who carried a dull gray blanket that looked as if it might be German Army surplus.

At the cell door, Burton removed the leash and pulled her to him. He kissed her, and she returned it, finding that he was really quite good at this, even if no genuine affection was likely involved. He carressed her, and she felt goose bumps rise on her flesh and she shuddered involuntarily as he probed her intimately.

He broke off, said that he had to get some sleep and advised her to. "Marguerite will surely be along shortly, and you two girls have a big day ahead tomorrow, if Gloop can spare me from his precious scientific experiments. Turn around. I'll remove your bracelets and put them on in front if you want. It'll be easier for you to sleep, and Gloop wants me to treat you nice, for now. Anyway, you're making good progress, and I'll do you a favor."

He unlocked her handcuffs and had her keep facing away from him as she held her hands up above her and he fastened the cuffs again. Then, he allowed her to lower her hands, wrists now locked in front of her.

Burton pulled her head back and gave her a kiss that seemed to have some real tenderness in it and passed her the gray blanket. "Sleep, tight, baby. You're doing well. I'll do my best to be patient with Marguerite. I have my faults, but I'm a man of my word, and you're doing your part." He slapped her on the rear and shoved her toward the bed. "See you tomorrow. Pleasant dreams." And he slammed the cell door and Ed locked it.

Finn went to the sleeping platform, wrapped the blanket around her, and tried to relax. She feared for Marguerite and hoped that Burton had been truthful when he'd said that Gloop was a gentleman and just wanted to talk to a member of his nation's nobility, once married to a man he knew well, and now his widow.

When Marguerite came, Finn would share the blanket, and the two of them would keep one another warm. At least, they were getting to be better friends than they had in over a year. That might put a silver lining on this very dark cloud.

She remembered the way Burton had handled her, especially at the cell door when he had touched her unexpectedly as they kissed, and she blushed with shame at the way she'd reacted. Then, she remembered Challenger and the way he made her feel, and she felt better. Even from just a physical contact viewpoint, there was no comparison between the men, and George was so different from Burton, otherwise! Just the thought that George and the others might find her and Marguerite gave her some faint hope, and she knew that both she and M. were resourceful. She repeated that to herself, and tried to sleep.

As the sun rose through the cell, Marguerite started to stir. She started to reach for her pistol when she realized that she didn't have it with her. Or much else for that matter. She fluttered her eyes and then opened them fully. She looked around and saw that she was in a cell cuffed with someone next to her. She started to get up when she realzied that Finn was the person next to her. She got up fully and looked around some more. She saw Finn with a blanket and cuffed as well. Finn was still asleep, dreaming of Challenger. The sun was fluttering across her face like a bunch of diamonds. She actually looked beautiful that way. But Marguerite couldn't think of that right now. She had to decide on what she wanted to do. She tried to get up, but couldn't. Her neck was sore and every part of her body ached and moaned. She sat there wishing she had been more careful, she SHOULD have been more careful.

"Where am I?" moaned Marguerite. "I can't have gone far."

As she said that, she heard foot steps from down the hall.

Burton, Phil, and Ed walked up to the cell, and Burton roughly ordered Marguerite to get up and go to the wall. She complied, moving stiffly, and Finn, hearing voices, woke.

She looked around, took in the situation, and cast off her blanket and moved to join Marguerite.

"No, Nikki," commanded Burton. "Just stand in the middle of the room with your hands on your head. Stay away from Marguerite."

Nikki/Finn nodded and did as she was told. As her senses cleared, she noticed that Marguerite now wore only the beige bikini panties again, although she had been allowed -even told- to dress fully before being taken to Gloop the night before. It dawned on her that something bad might have happened.

Burton came in, unlocked the cuffs and had her place her hands behind her, telling her to be sure to hold her palms flat toward him and to turn the backs of her wrists slightly toward one another. He snapped on the cuffs. Locking her hands that way, combined with the cuffs having only one link , made her feel even more confined than before, not that she saw much practical difference from a security standpoint.

Burton turned her, snapped on her leash, and led her out into the hall. He nodded to Ed, who closed and locked the cell.

"You can leave the wall now, Marguerite," Burton said. "Sit on the bed and think about how stupid you were last night until someone comes to take you to the training room. Come on, Nikki." And he led her off.

Finn's mind had cleared, and she was becoming alarmed. "Master," she asked. "Is something wrong? What has Marguerite done?"

He snorted. "LIke you don't know. I told you not to jive me, baby."

"I ...I..really DON'T know," she protested. "Marguerite came in quietly last night, and shoved me away when I tried to share the blanket with her. She turned her back to me and wouldn't say anything. I figured, hey, this is Marguerite. She'll sulk and tell me something later. Pressing her just makes her more secretive. Then, we went to sleep. I think she finally moved over by me later, but I was too sleepy to say anything. I felt her get up a few minutes ago, and she just sat there. I think she was crying. About the time I started waking up, really, you were yelling at her to go stand by the wall."

"Like you two didn't plan this," he retorted.

"Plan what? We were with you until that guy came in with her clothes and told her to dress and go see Prof. Gloop. I stayed with you."

"Okay," he admitted." I'll cut you some slack. You really don't know what she did?"

"No, I don't. Are we girls in trouble? What did that witch DO? Oh, my gosh! I've never had a chance to talk privately to her, to convince her to behave. Are you going to punish me for something that I don't even know about?"

He shoved her into Room 3 and leashed her to the pole.  
"I guess maybe there's an outside chance that you're innocent," he grudgingly conceded. "Mainly because I know how sneaky she is."

Ed rolled in a tray and went down to help Phil get the Zanga girls to the training room for breakfast.

Burton gestured to the food, which included coffee for him. He pointed to the floor and said, "You know the routine, Nikki."

She nodded meekly, knelt as gracefully as she could, looking at him shyly. She knew this was a good time to do her best to be pleasing. What had Marguerite DONE to upset the men? raced through her mind.

Burton began feeding her. He told her that she would soon be taken to the training room, where he expected her to be his model as the girls were shown how to assume various servile positions when given one or two-word commands.

"I expect you to be a role model, too, Nikki. Show them how to obey and look good doing it. That's best for all of you, believe me."

"Yes, Master," she said quietly. "I'll do my best. Just tell me what to do."

Burton remembered something. "Can you dance, Nikki?"

"Sure," she nodded. "Not Middle Eastern style, if that's what you mean, but I'm good at rock-n-roll, and my friends have been teaching me waltzes and stuff like that."

"What do you mean by rock-n-roll? That doesn't make sense."

She remembered the differences in their centuries and tried to explain, pretending that this dancing was from her city, without getting into time frames. He wouldn't believe her, anyway, and this was no time to get him mad.

"Okay, " he said. "We'll try to approximate that music you described. That sounds like it could be fun to watch."

"Most guys like to watch it," she grinned. "I move pretty well. You won't be disappointed. Master? May I please know what Marguerite has done? I swear I have no idea." She leaned over gracefully and carefully accepted the bite of broiled peacock bass that he extended to her. Breakfast had turned out to be fish with rice, mixed with carrots and squash. It was actually quite good, to her surprise.

"Okay," he conceded. " You won't believe this, but that witch ..." and he filled her in on Marguerite's bold actions of the night before. As she listened, Finn's eyes grew wide, and she shook her head in amazement several times.

Xu'ma, Veronica, and Ned reached the place where the injured warrior had been attacked by Spirit Jaguar, and held their torches high as Roxton and Challenger began looking carefully around the scene. They were able to put together what had happened, and paid particular attention to the tracks left by the big cat. Roxton handed the man's fallen spear to Malone. "Keep that, Ned. We'll clean it soon and give it to the man if he's concious when we get back. It may cheer him up and help his recovery." As a hunter and weapons enthusiast, he knew the sentimental value of a good spear. He wondered about the blood on the blade. He didn't know where the spear had struck, but it was clear that they were now stalking a wounded animal in the darkness.

"I've seen quite a few jaguar tracks," Roxton noted, "but these don't seem remarkable, except that the cat is big, maybe 300 pounds or better. They sometimes get above 400 pounds in the Mato Grosso area of Brazil. Maybe here, too."

Challenger nodded. "I concur. Nothing that seems out of line."

"But John and Marguerite said that that elephant today glowed, and the Zanga say the same about Spirit Jaguar," Veronica reminded them. "That's what's odd. The Zanga respect jaguars, but they hunt them when they want the skins or when one attacks them or their goats or dogs. They don't show the fear they do of this one, and that glow is the key."

Challenger nodded. "Quite so, Veronica. But there has to be a reasonable scientific explanation, and I think I may know what it is. Is there any area on the Plateau where the soil may be radioactive? If they rolled in the dirt there or got into a cave with radiation in it, that might account for it. I think whatever substance it is is in the soil and coats their skin. Probably mud, to stick to them like that."

"Wouldn't that be harmful?" inquired Malone.

"Very likely, if it's in any concentration.Of course, they might live for days after exposure, depending on the intensity. Or, it may be just some sort of phospherescent substance. That really makes more sense."

"Let's try to track it," from Roxton. "Look sharp, everyone. The warrior wounded it, so it may be lying up nearby, ready to take a bite out of whoever gets too close. Leopards do that, and I'm guessing jaguars do, too." He held his rifle ready, and gestured for Malone to go ahead with a strong flashlight.

"Look for the reflection of the eyes, Ned," he instructed. "They'll be green. Most other animals' eyes are yellow at night."

"Why?" Ned wanted to know.

"Because of the cat's tapetum lucidum, of course. Probably. Their eyes are especially adapted for night hunting. I'll tell you more later, when I'm not so worried about one jumping out at us," said Challenger.

But their efforts fell on unfallow ground as the trail led onto stony soil. Xu'ma found one overturned rock that might have been dislodged by the cat, and Roxton found a tuft of dark fur caught on a thorny limb close to the ground. Looking back from it, he noticed a drop of drying blood on the chalky earth.

"Let's call it quits for now," said Challenger. "All we'll manage out here under these conditions is getting ourselves worn out on one hand, or shredded by claws on the other, in the dark, where it's hard to shoot without hitting one of our own. Roxton, mark this spot with a compass bearing and the Layton map, and we'll come back when the sun is up."

"Right you are, George," exclaimed the tall hunter. "In sunlight, we can see subtle shadows that will let us notice faint tracks and bent leaves of grass, things like that."

The group returned to the village, moving carefully, lest the cat be tracking them. They might not be the only hunters tonight.

Veronica and Malone walked ahead as they neared the palisade, engaged in private conversation.

Suddenly, Assai, Jacoba, and two warriors came out to meet them, and a loud discussion arose.

Ned turned to the others as they arrived and blurted, "I can't believe this! They've taken the women!"

Burton, Ed, and Phil escorted the girls back to their cell, and opened the door. Burton jerked his thumb at Marguerite, and she sauntered in, trying to look unperturbed and in control.

The morning training session had gone well, for some three hours, and the men now needed to do other things. Burton said that they might meet again in the training room for an hour or two that evening.

Finn paused at the door. She looked back and said, "Master? Remember when you spanked me on the butt before shoving me in here the last time?"

Burton scowled. "Yeah? So? I own you, slave, in case you're forgetting. I can slap you on the behind whenever I want."

"Sure," she conceded, "But you haven't done it yet this time. I think it' s kind of cool." She ran her tongue around her lips enticingly, then bent forward, offering Burton an iresistible target.

He was momentarily dumbfounded, then grinned and swatted her on the buttocks, a little harder than she'd expected. He unlocked her cuffs, going through the now familiar process of refastening her hands in front. He gestured to Phil, who handed her the giirls' panties. "You can put those on when we leave. I want to keep your bra for awhile. I may tell you why later." (All women had to remain nude in the training room, at least for the first few days, and they had disrobed on his command.)

"In you go, Nikki. You just earned a separate blanket for your smart-alec roomie, by the way. Not that she really deserves it. I'll have it brought down in a few minutes." He leaned her forward, spanked her again, kissed her, and shoved lightly at the small of her back.

Nikki ran into the cell, giggling. She stopped by the bed, where Marguerite was sitting, crosslegged, watching.  
She looked at her companion with a mixture of disdain and admiration, and said, "Finn...NIKKI...you are such a slut!" 

" I know. I think I may have a kinky streak," Finn admitted. "But you just got a blanket out of it," she reminded.

"Girls, girls," admonished Burton. Get some rest. You'll be fed about six, then I'll see you in training an hour after that, barring unseen circumstances. Au revoir, ladies." He slammed and locked the door, and the three thugs trooped off down the hall.

"Do you know what a narcisstic sociopath is, Nikki?" asked Marguerite.

"Sure, " Finn replied. "But you shouldn't talk like that about yourself, Marguerite. You also have several redeeming social qualities." She stuck out her tongue and dodged the blanket that Marguerite threw at her. Both girls laughed.

"I don't mean, me, silly, " Marguerite retorted. "I mean the man you just asked to swat your behind so you could run off giggling like a lovestruck teenager. How much of this is really you? Is he getting to you? Seriously, Finn, Avery Burton is bad news. He ruins lives every day. He has done that for years. Be very careful of your dark side."

Her friend looked at her carefully, serious now, and Marguerite realized that she was seeing Finn, not Nikki.

"Marguerite, I'm Nikki to him because it's keeping us out of worse trouble than we're already in. He has the typical male ego, whatever else he is, and I play to it. Today, anyway."

"And tomorrow?" , the brunette beauty asked. "Finn, men like him grow on you if you aren't careful. I think you do have a dark side, and he plays to it. You also have a pretty good dose of female vanity, and it responds to him. To some extent, you two may be forming a symbiotic relationship. Watch out."

"You asked about tomorrow," Finn stated. Her face grew cold and thoughtful and determined. This was definitely Finn speaking. "Today, I accomodate. I'm a survivor, as are you. But tomorrow? Tomorrow is another day, and Mr. Master Burton may not live to see the sun set. Keep your eyes and ears open. If V. and the boys don't find us soon, we'll think of something. And, then, who knows? I wouldn't like to be Avery: he is living on borrowed time, and sooner or later, that time will run out. Now, cheer up. Here: help me get these on and I'll help you. " She lifted her panties and dropped Marguerite's on the bed. She showed her impish grin again. "Look at it as a bonding experience. Cousin."

And they both laughed, Marguerite feeling much better than she had that morning.

When dinner came, it was brought to them in the cells, and the native attendant who passed the food bowls through the bars seemed preoccupied.

"You eat now, "he commanded."Maybe not much time. Mr. Burton and Prof. Gloop argue about what to do tonight. You maybe go to training later; maybe not." And he left. Marguerite was at the bars and noticed that a guard at the end of the hall closed the door as the other man left. So, someone was watching outside...

Seven o'clock came, and no summons to be trained. Finally, after eight, Phil came in with a Zanga man. The Zanga addressed the girls of his tribe in their tongue, and Phil motioned to the white girls to come to the bars.

"Slaves, there's been a change in plans," he began. "Your owner and his associate have been having a heated discussion, and it looks like it may last a while. He sent me to tell you that each of you is to practice the positions that you learned this morning for at least 25 repetitions. Do some of them together, trying to synchronize your motions, like if you were in a line of girls who got the same command at the same time. Other times, each of you watch the other and critique her. Help her to learn where any awkwardness lies and how to move well and provocatively. You'll be expected to show improvement in the morning. Any girl who doesn't seem to be trying hard to please will be whipped."

"You saw the whip used on one girl this morning when she smarted off. That female slave whip is fairly wide, soft leather, and it won't cut like a bullwhip, but ask her how it felt. Marguerite, you already know, after what you pulled last night. Believe me, you got off light. Mr. Burton wouldn't have been so easy on you if Gloop hadn't intervened, even though it was him you hit with that champagne bottle. We don't want to spoil merchandise, so you won't be hurt internally, and the marks on your back and legs go away soon, but that girl will tell you it stung like a hundred fire ants bit her with every stroke she took. You'll all be whipped twice as part of your training, just so you know how it feels and to remind you that it can be done whenever we think it should. I advise you not to court any more sessions at the whipping post than you have to. Take your practice tonight seriously, even though you'll be alone when I leave."

"I was told to watch you for the first three positions, two times each, and if you're doing okay, I'm needed elsewhere. You're supposed to be nude, so if anyone asks later, tell them you were. I'll give you a break on that if you do well. It's not like you're all wrapped up in winter clothes, anyway, is it?" He chuckled. "And I've seen you undressed, and will again. Hey, Nikki: I was glad to see that you're a natural blonde, baby! Mr. Burton liked that, too."

Finn saw where his eyes were and joked, "Yeah, so the carpet matches the drapes. I'm glad you guys enjoyed the show. We're always eager to please."

Phil laughed outright. "Nikki, you're a funny girl. I see why Mr. Burton likes you. Listen, baby. If you keep playing your cards so well, maybe he won't sell you. I've never seen him so impressed with a slave girl so early on. All the men like you."

He glanced at his watch. "Okay, honeys, let's get the show on the road. I wish I could stay, but things upstairs need my attention once I'm sure you remember what to do and aren't sluffing off." And he began giving commands, watching with practiced eyes as Marguerite, then Finn, went through their paces. 

"Okay," he ordered minutes later. "Marguerite, watch the way you do that floor roll and the way you hold your right leg when you put your hands up and lift your hair. I know it's a little easier to lift the hair when you're not cuffed. I'm taking that into account. Get your head all the way down when you do the low kneel, too. But, overall, not bad. Nikki: Honey, I don't know what to say. You are just plain GREAT at this. A natural. If I was Mr. Burton, I'd be bragging about you, too. Help Marguerite. I'll see you girls in the morning. You can sack out or goof off or whatever you want in there once you finish practicing. Just be sure you look good at the next session."

He conferred with the Zanga man, who said that the girls in the other cell were also at least satisfactory for this stage in their instruction, and the men left, Phil saying that he'd send some melon slices down to Nikki, and it was up to her if she gave Marguerite any.

The melon slices and some grapes came, along with a pitcher of lemonade and some cheese. . Clearly, Phil had been impressed with Nikki!

Of course, she shared with Marguerite, although they had to eat off of the same platter and pass the glass for the lemonade back-and-forth. They were becoming so close that neither minded, and Finn was glad that she was bonding with Marguerite more than ever. Then, she remembered her handcuffs, and wondered if 'bonding' was really the right word for this. She smiled at her own pun, but M. didn't notice. Her mind seemed to be far away.

Marguerite munched on a slice of canteloupe, and let her thoughts return to a scene from that morning's training...

She had let her attention drift when a sharp tug on her neck chain snapped her back to reality. She gave the trainer a 'die right now, on this spot' look, and got whacked on the behind with his riding crop for it. She stifled her reply, realizing that getting into even more trouble was not going to be the best way home to her beloved John.

"How disgusting and degenerate this all is," she thought, "but I had better keep up with the other girls, or Finn and I will never get home. The sooner we are fully trained slaves, the better. I want to find Avery's and that bloody Jerry scientist's weak points and do what's necessary to get the hell out of this nightmare."

Her body responded as instructed, but she thought of their last extended time together, her and John, and felt her heart melt and her body respond. Marguerite's body heat went up a few degrees and she felt as if she was glowing. Looking at her chains while on all fours and moving subtly as she was ordered, Marguerite suddenly had a brilliant idea!

Remembering now, she turned to Finn and asked, "Do you and George, or just previous boyfriends or girls you've talked with, ever had games during sex, where one is the master and one the slave?"

"Hell, yeah, Marguerite! We call it S&M. But why do you ask? Got something planned for you and Roxton?", Finn asked with a smile.

"Maybe," Marguerite conceded with a sly smile.

A picture appeared in her mind: She was on her knees, bound with chains to the bed. Roxton was behind her and tugged on her collar, drawing her head back for a hard kiss. He stood there behind her, fully dressed, holding her by her raven hair. "What do you want, Slave?" he demanded.

"You", she replied, and he slapped her bottom.

"Tell me exactly what you want, and beg for it", he continued, while he carressed her breasts and fondled her, sliding his hand over her bottom, tingling her senses where his hand had just struck.

"I want you, Sir John ...Lord Roxton. I want you to take me... please."

Her thoughts returned to the cell again, and she told Finn that, "When Roxton rescues me, I will give him a night that he will never forget. He will love having me as a submissive, for a change." Marguerite felt hot, her mind, her body...just thinking of her and Roxton was setting her on fire.

Finn looked at Marguerite and blinked. She looked again and saw that there was a small ring of fire surrounding Marguerite's body...

Marguerite became aware of a rosy hue in the room and stared incredulously at the image forming before her.

Surrounded by a reddish cloud, she looked into a hut filled with smoke, with a human figure sitting in the middle. As the smoke cleared, she recognized Xma'Klee, seated on a woven reed mat, with small objects lying on another mat in front of him. To his right sat Challenger, to his left, Veronica. He was telling them something, and they leaned forward eagerly, listening earnestly, although Challenger had a skeptical expression on his face.

She saw the objects on the mat taken up in Xma'Klee's leather bag. He shook it vigorously, then cast the items out onto the smaller mat. The scene apperared to telescope in on the items, and she recognized the skull of a small caiman, one from a howler monkey, jaguar teeth, and the claws and beaks of two parrots. There were several exquisite jewels, cut in intricate facets, polished to perfection. They and golden nuggets reflected the light of a fire in the hut and twinkled like sparks from rubies. She noticed the carapaces of two river turtles, one a soft-shelled species. Remarkably, a pair of Finn's gold loop earrings from her pack in the Zanga village were included!

Xma'Klee lifted the long tail feathers of a huge blue hyacinth macaw, which he waved over the objects after studying them. Lifting the skull of an ocelet and turning it before his face, he turned his head, as if trying to see through its empty eye sockets from behind, the nose aimed straight ahead of his own. He chanted something, then in a move that completely baffled her, he shifted his gaze slightly, and looked directly at her and spoke her name.

Marguerite dropped the half slice of canteloupe from her manacled hands and put fingers to her mouth. Finn realized that she was seeing something not really there, and that it was mystifying and frightening her.

Xma'Klee spoke. "Sorcceress: hear me. I know that you see. Observe how the bones have fallen. Look at the pearls among them. There is an emerald, too, representing your lust for precious stones. I have made the smoke and cast the bones, and I see you. I do not know where you are, but I see the room, and I see the close future. I see the yellow-haired girl by you. The two of you are lovely, clad as you are. I see why you were sought by slavers."

"Dark one. Sorceress. Listen to my words. The chains that hold your wrists will soon fall. Finish eating and tell George Challenger's female also that she should be ready to flee. The one who will come to you is your salvation. Trust him. Go with him. I and your friends will see you soon. Then, I will speak to you and know how to deal with Spirit Jaguar and even more horrible beasts. All will end well. I will tell your man -the English lord -to expect you in a few hours, a day at most."

He looked to the side. "Bring me those blankets. They will warm me in the chill hours before dawn in the cold months. I will pay you for them, in a way useful to you when you need counsel some months hence. "

"Protect your friendship with Challenger's woman. She is loyal to you, and she is very wise, especially for a girl. She will be a friend to you many times over. Treasure and trust her, that you may know a companionship that has eluded you thus far in life."

"I go now. When you and Nicole Finnegan, who wishes to be Nicole Challenger, come to me, be careful of a shallow stream with granite boulders facing one another across a wide pool. There is a big crocodile waiting there, among the reeds, close to shore. Stay to the left of the pool and walk quickly past it and follow Finn's instincts to come here. A star will guide her. Farewell for now."

And he vanished as suddenly as he had come, leaving a faint aroma of smoke in the cell.

Marguerite sat, transfixed, for a moment, then turned to Finn. "Finn, did you see what I saw?"

"No, M. But I know you saw something more than the ring of fire that I saw. That alone was just beyond belief. It surrounded you and swirled and bathed you in an eerie light. What have you seen? Are we safe?"

Marguerite nodded, and told her what she had seen, and Finn looked at her carefully, rose and walked around the platter and pitcher and knelt by her friend. She reached out tenatively but tenderly with her hands and touched them to Marguerite's forehead. She felt warm, but the sunburned look she had had moments before was rapidly fading.

Marguerite tossed her head impatiently. "Finn, I'm all right. I just feel a little light -headed. I know what I saw. I have no idea why you didn't see it, but if I'm not nuttier than Gloop, I suppose this bizarre prophecy will validate my vision soon. Let's finish the fruit and be ready for anything."

Finn nodded, and lifted the glass of lemonade to her friend, who sipped. She then looked at Finn and told her what Xma'Klee had said about the value of their friendship.

"Finn, if I have offended you or trivialized you in the past, darling, I am SO sorry. I know now that we are much alike in some ways, and that we need to help one another. Please forgive me for my arrogance. Help me to grow out of it. Well, most of it: I don't want to appear to be TOO humble to Lord Roxton or to common people." She tossed her head back and laughed joyously.

Finn smiled back, hoping that whatever had just happened hadn't mentally damaged her companion, who was fast becoming her friend.

"Listen!", said Marguerite. "Was that a key in the lock to the outer door?"

Finn scrambled over the floor to the bars and craned her neck to see down the short aisle in front of the cells. She heard the Zanga girls moving, too, a faint clink of chains and rustling bare feet.

A man walked through the door, carrying a valise of something. He had her rifle in the crook of an arm, and Marguerite's .275 Rigby slung over one shoulder.

Walking up to the cells, he held his finger to his lips, the universal signal for silence. "Listen, slaves," he said softly. I have come to free you. Follow my instructions and don't argue. We will talk more when we are away from this place."

The man was ma-Dook. Finn and Marguerite looked at one another and each wore an expression of astonishment, overlaid with hope.

Veronica, Roxton, Malone and Challenger had been shocked when learning of the disappearance of their two female companions. Thinking they would be safer in the Zanga village then accompanying them in their search for the glowing jaguar. Now they had to face the fact that the women hadn't been as safe as they had thought.

Challenger and Roxton immediately wanted to set up a search and rescue mission for their lost loves, it took Malone and Veronica all their persuasion power to prevent the two men from going right back into the jungle. After all they went back to the village because they decided it was too dark and too dangerous to continue the search for the jaguar. "What makes you think it would be any less dangerous, if not plane stupid to go and search for the women in the dark and with a dangerous animal lurking in the bushes. We don't even know where they were taken to", Veronica said. And both Roxton and Challenger couldn't deny that she was right. They wouldn't stand a fighting chance in this darkness if they were confronted with the jaguar or any other dangerous animals out there in the jungle. And if, god forbid, they were wounded or killed, they wouldn't even be able to try and save the women. No, Veronica was right, they had to wait until daybreak before they could start their search.

But even though their head prevailed over their heart it took all the inner strength they had to remain calm and collected, for both Roxton and Challenger weren't the most patient people in the world. Thankfully Xma'Klee came up with an idea that took all of their minds off of the long wait they had ahead of them. To Challenger the idea seemed to be totally out there, but the others were all too willing to try Xma'Klee's plan out and they reminded Challenger once again that even stranger things had happened on the plateau while they had been there. So Challenger, really wanting to try anything to find his love and make sure she was ok, gave Xma'Klee the all clear.

The group followed the Witch Doctor to his hut, where Xma'Klee quickly started the preparations for the ceremony, as the others anxiously awaited the things that would follow.

Ma'Dook opened their cell and opened the door. Marguerite went out the door first standing to the right of ma-Dook. Finn came out a little slower, weary. She wanted to be cautious just in case it was a trap. Once she realized that it wasn't a trap, she relaxed. After all she had been through, she was still a bit weary. Even how submissive she'd been to Avery.

"Why are you doing this? What have we done to you?" asked Finn.

"Shhhh!" ma-Dook put his finger to his lips again.

He motioned them to follow him. While walking he gave M. and Finn their rightful guns. Finn smiled broadly, remembering the first day Challenger had taught her to fire the gun. He was a wonderful teacher, she admitted to herself. She couldn't wait to get to George. Finn was all giddy with excitement.

Ma-Dook to the women to another room. This one was a small, modest room. It was clearly a storage room. There were several other women in there putting on their rightful clothes. "I will wait outside. In here, put on clothes. Hurry." With that, ma-Dook went out to guard the door.

Marguerite found her clothes first. She took them off a dusty shelf that they were on and frowned because they were both filthy and wrinkled. "Where's the laundry service when you need it?" She quickly put them on. She turned to wait for Finn who was still trying to find her clothes.

"Hurry up Finn! We need to get going," said Marguerite hurriedly. Patience wasn't one of Marguerite's best traits.

"I can't find them. I don't know where they are," replied Finn. She was going from shelf to shelf trying to look for them. Each shelf proving the clothes weren't there. "Help me will you?"

"Harrumph. Fine."

Marguerite walked over to Finn and started going through the box that stood by the door. While the girls were going through the box, they heard shots outside the door. To close for comfort.

"Let's hurry up! We don't have much time Finn!"

"Girls, come now," yelled ma-Dook. "We must hurry. They come now."

"Ha! Here they are. One moment ma-Dook!" hissed Finn.

She quickly put them on and got her gun. Off they ran out the door and to the right. The three of them started to go up a slight incline and up some stairs. They headed straight when they encountered Avery Burton and Professor Gloop.

"Nikki! Where are you going? Why do you have your clothes on? Take them off right this instance," yelled Burton. "I loved you."

"Oh shut up. That wasn't love. That was slavery," replied Nicole.

"You were to be mine. What happened? You can't do this. If I can't have you, no one will!"

With that Burton started running toward them. But before he could do that, he felt something sting his right shoulder. And then something else that entered his back. He fell down and hit the wall.

He cradled his right shoulder and looked at Professor Gloop. He realized it was Pro. Gloop who had shot him. He got up and started screaming. Finn and the others momentarily forgotten.

"Fool!"

Burton had taken a 9mm full-jacketed bullet from Gloop's Luger (German name: Parabellum or P-08) through the right shoulder, missing the bone.. It hurt, but wasn't in a kill zone. He was a far more skilled gunfighter than Gloop, and he twisted now on the landing at the base of the stairs, avoiding a second shot, at which point Gloop's Luger jammed, a not especially uncommon occurence that would eventually cause the German ordnance department to seek its less complicated replacement in the 1930's.

Burton had his Colt .45 SAA out now in his left hand and he thumbed back the hammer and pointed his arm in much the manner that Wild Bill Hickok had once described to a journalist. The wonderful pointing characteristics of the gun and long practice made it rather easy to shoot Gloop three times, all mid-thorax hits. One 250 grain lead bullet smashed into Gloop's left ventricle, another took off the artery above the heart, and the third broke a rib as it passed through a lung and exited his body through a kidney, which it ruined. Gloop was rocked by the blows from the heavy Colt, and fell down the stairs. He scrabbled about ineffectually, gasping for oxygen, dying second-by-second.

Burton rose, went over to Gloop and aimed between his eyes. "Take that, you crazy coot," he snarled, and pulled the trigger. Thus passed Prof. Gloop, a wretched, flawed genius.

Burton sagged against the wall, his right arm giving him great pain. "Ed," he bellowed. "Phil, Tom! Where are you guys?"

He heard gunfire at the end of the tunnel, then noticed the chatter of an 8mm Maxim machine gun. It was being fired expertly, in short bursts. Burton realized that the gunner was probably Gloop's man Witt, formerly with a Prussian Grenadier regiment on the Western Front. His assistant gunner, Schmidt, had been with Gen. von Lettow-Vorbeck, against British, South African, and Indian troops in German East Africa. They were hardened, skilled machine gunners, and they could control the exit. Whoever was there would be bottled up inside until his men could arrive. He opened the loading gate on the Colt, set the hammer at half-cock, and began rotating the cylinder, pushing the extractor rod to eject the fired cartridge cases. He had just reloaded when his men ran up. Two had Mauser 7mm rifles, the Brazilian M1908 model, purchased from bribed Brazilian soldiers in Recife when they had arrived in-country. Phil had the Bergmann submachine gun.

At the other end of the tunnel, ma-Dook lay bleeding, as Finn applied pressure from a bandeau top that ma-Dook had meant her to wear. He hadn't been sure that he could find her clothes, so had brought Zanga loincloths and tops for all the girls. Finn wadded a square of cloth cut with ma-Dook's knife against the wound and tied it in place with the rest of the garment. She hadn't been able to retrieve her Swiss Army knife, or for that matter, her bra. ma-Dook said that Burton had brought those to Gloop, pointing out that they were of too advanced a level of manufacture to be from the Plateau. Moreover, the Victorinox knife had the country of origin clearly marked on the blade tang, and the stainless blades were too advanced for a type of steel just developed about 1915, and not yet used in high quality cutlery. Burton knew that Finn had lied to him, but Gloop had shrugged it off, saying that such things were of little consequence at the moment. They could question Finn intensely later. The issue now was who was in charge, and who would run which aspects of their operation.

Gloop wanted to hang Margeurite as a spy, and Burton was adamant that she was his prisoner, and that he'd rather sell her and watch her taken in chains from the block by her owner. He would smirk at her, knowing that her ego would be more severely bruised by this than if he simply shot her or let Gloop hang her. The war was over, he reminded Gloop, and what she did in it was less important than the sum she would bring from a wealthy Arab he knew, who would rejoice in buying a high class Englishwoman for his harem. Thus would he profit from her, while enjoying his revenge. Sort of like that bromide about having one's cake and eating it, too...

They had argued over many things, and tempers had grown to the breaking point. Finally, they had agreed to go to bed and meet again after breakfast to see if they should go their separate ways. Burton had been on his way to the slave cells to take Nikki to his room for the night. He meant to use her for his pleasure, then to chain her at the foot of his bed, far enough from him for safety. Giving nothing away at that time, he would demand answers from her later about the advanced items she owned, before meeting with Gloop. If Nikki didn't have a reasonable explanation, he would torture Marguerite in front of her until he got his answers. Gloop or one of his flunkies had evidently heard him tell this to Phil. What else could have set off the idiot scientist, causing him to come looking for Burton with Luger in hand? It was foolish, but plausible if Gloop had felt his Germanic sense of authority and honor violated.

Out by the exit, the little group of escapees knew that their time was limited. Not knowing that Burton had killed Gloop, they had seen Burton flinch and fall, just before they ran around the corner to the exit.

Ma-Dook shouted out to the German machinegunners that it was he whom they had fired on, and that he, like they, worked for Gloop. "Why did you shoot me?" he demanded.

"Herr Gloop said that no one vas to pass dis vay," said Markus Witt, the senior gunner and flunky. Why do you haff dose girls mit you? Dey belong to Mr. Burton. Are you stealing zem, isn't it?" His English wasn't perfect, but his point was clear.

"Nein, nein, dumkoff!" screamed Marguerite. "Herr Gloop ordered us freed. He and Avery Burton have had a terrible falling out, and they are shooting at one another. We need to flee. So do you. Burton may kill us all when his men arrive. Will you hold your fire, and come with us?"

"Baroness Krux?", asked Witt. "Ziss will not work. Herr Doktor has said to us zat you will be SHOT! in zee morning, if he duss not hang you. Englander spy! My companions sometimes died because of secrets zat you sent to our enemy. When he tried to treat you mit gallantry as a respected foe, you hit him with a bottle and tried to seize his gun. Zat vas when Herr Burton convinced him zat you were no good. He would have had you be fully dressed and unchained in der cell then, but only that you might die with dignity if you could. You will not trick Hans and me. We know your nature."

Seing that she couldn't bluff Witt and his assistant, Marguerite thought desperately. She saw that Finn had finished bandaging ma-Dook.

The lighting here in the tunnel was bare bulbs strung about every ten feet down the hall. She thought of shooting them out, but there were too many, and she had no desire to have bullets richocheting off of those rock walls. This wasn't a movie, where such problems didn't happen.

ma-Dook saw where her thoughts lay, and said, "Ma-Greet! There is a transformer box just down the hall around the corner. Shoot that once, not the bulbs many times. It will kill all the lights in this quadrant, and not skip bullets all around."

"I'm SO on this," said Finn. "I saw it as we ran past. It has to be that box." She lifted the Winchester, and sprinted down the hall. At the junction of the hallways, she peeked out quickly, her face low. She saw Burton's men helping him down the hall, with Phil looking back, the Bergmann ready to sycthe down anyone who pursued them.

She thumbed back the hammer on the M92 Winchester and stepped smartly out into the hall and snap-shot the transformer box, the bullet careening down the hall after the enemy, barely missing Phil, and causing him to flinch as he triggered a short burst of 9mm bullets. Finn was already back around the wall before Phil had registered her presence and reacted.

The transformer box burst open, sending sparks everywhere, and the lights suddenly went as dark as the nether regions of Carlsbad Caverns when the guide shut off the lights to frighten tourists. Then she saw a glowing object thrashing around on the floor. A cord, swinging wildly as power from the next relay drove it, although it had been blown asunder on one end.

Finn eased her way back down the hall, pressed against the left wall for orientation, and to avoid any shots aimed down the middle of the tunnel. Her ears rang furiously from the sound of the gunfire in this enclosed space!

Out by the exit, Marguerite smiled at ma-Dook and said, "I told you that she was on our side, and just playing up to Burton. She was wary of you because she thought you might have been sent by him as part of a plot against us."

"What kind of plot might I bring?" snorted ma-Dook. "Burton already owned her. I was going to offer to gag her and one of the Zanga girls, Sh'eera, and chain them to the cell, so that they could remain with him and serve him without getting in trouble over the escape. Until you swore otherwise as you hunted for clothes, I thought she had decided to cast her lot with him. Girls sometimes do, I've heard."

"Yes," said another Zanga girl. "Nikki looks at the master with awe. After training today, when we were allowed to wash and drink water and eat watermelon and talk for a few minutes before being taken back to the cells, Nikki washed quickly, had a swift drink, and took her handcuffs and leash to Mr. Burton, turned her back, and offered her wrists to him. Braceleted, she knelt by him and talked to him, and when she thought no one was watching, she rubbed her face against his leg and kissed his hand that held her leash! He scratched her behind the ears and said something tender to her. Sh'eera watched angrily. She was jealous of Nikki, and tried to get Master to watch her when she moved on the floor and tried to stand closer than Nikki to him. She also wished to be his preferred girl. Shameless, both of them! Mr. Phil and Mr. Ed both saw, and laughed."

"I saw, too," said Marguerite. "But she did this because Burton was watching me with real hate. I think he was about to punish me for something, but she took his mind off me. Her heart really belongs to Prof. Challenger, who is probably searching frantically for her right now."

Finn reached the group again and lay down on the floor, where shots fired into the cave would hopefully pass over her, and said, " Okay, Marguerite, what's next?"

"Our only hope," said ma-Dook, "is to pass down this hall again and turn right, as if going back to the cells. But we will turn off a level above them, by Room 3, and go down that hall. It ends at the animal pens, and I can open the doors there. We can go out and around the machine gun. Witt and Hans will never see us."

"But," he continued, "we must pass by the turnoff in the hall that leads towards Burton's room. His men are probably taking him there to lie down and be treated for his wound. Soon, they will come for us. We must hurry."

At the first sign of daybreak Roxton, Challenger, Veronica and Malone had made all the preparations they needed for their search for the two missing women. Asai had made sure they had access to everything they needed. Enough food and water to last them a few days, ropes, wooden spears, gunpowder and anything else they might need for their trip.

As soon as first light hit the horizon the group set out into the jungle, once again accompanied by Xma'Klee. Chief Jacoba had, with some friendly persuation of his daughter Asai, allowed for four of the best Zanga warriors to come with them.

The group, led by Roxton and Veronica, searched for any clues that would give an indication of the direction Marguerite and Finn were taken in. After a short while Roxton and Veronica agreed, there could only be one direction the minute clues were leading them to: the river!

Clever really, Roxton thought, it would make it even harder for them to find out where the women were taken, they could have followed the river up or down stream and they could've gotten off the river at any time, "It's like searching for a bloody needle in a haystack!", Roxton said frustrated by the situation. And then there was the matter of who had actually taken the women and why!

"The only thing we can really be sure of, "grumbled Roxton, "is that these boot marks are European or American footwear, not native to the Plateau, and that the weight of two of the persons suggests that they were carrying a girl each. See how deep their footprints are? The third man may have carried something, but not so heavy; his tracks aren't nearly so deep in the mud."

"Yes," agreed Veronica, "and if there are no separate tracks from Finn and Marguerite, they weren't being forced to walk: they were definitely carried."

"You can see where they were laid down and positioned here," Roxton pointed out, "next to their sleeping bags. And the Thermos is just laying there open. Marguerite probably dropped it when they were ambushed. Those are her footprints by it."

"So," said Challenger, "we're looking for white people whom we don't know. We have the only other boots like these. And they were very skilled at creeping through the jungle and taking two normally rather alert, armed women."

Xma'Klee held up the dart that Finn had torn from her arm. "This is how they were taken: blowgun darts, with poison or drugs. I think they would have been left if killed. Your people are not cannibals. Why take bodies? I think these men were slavers. Why else carry off two attractive women, unless they will ask for ransom?"

All nodded, and pondered what to do next.

Chief Jacoba and the explorers sent out word to nearby Zanga villages to report any sign of two white women and their abductors, and parties went up and down the river, seeking places where the canoes of the kidnappers might have landed. But nothing distinct showed, as there was no sign of the slave cart for some distance beyond the water, a precaution insisted on by Burton. The imprints of their and Finn's boots had been obliterated until they were well away from the river, so again, no sign of anything distinctive was noted by the searchers.

A thin line of warriors went out into the jungle, but found no sign, either. Roxton, Malone, Challenger, and Veronica were almost beside themselves with worry, and even the grumpy Jacoba found sufficient humanity to sympathize with them.

Finally, after due deliberation, Xma'Klee suggested that he make a sacred "seeing" fire in his hut, dumping spoonfuls of a powdered herb on the fire to give him hallucinations. He would then cast his "medicine bones", mixed with jewels to represent Marguerite, and a pair of her earrings that Veronica knew were in her pack to represent Finn. The witchcraft wouild be stronger if such personal items were involved.

This was done, and Xma'Klee received impressions of several things, including the wide pool with the crocodile that he had mentioned to Marguerite in his appearance to her.

After he had tried his telepathic contact, he reported seeing the girls, and how they were dressed and chained, and the appearance of the cell. He told the others that he sensed that rescue was at hand, and by one who had once been known to the Zanga, but was no longer among them. That was all he had been able to glean from his vision.

Challenger questioned him at length about the appearance of the cell walls, and Xma'Klee related what he could, including that the cell seemed to have been cut into a wall of natural stone. When he mentioned the color of the walls and that he had seen fossil shellfish imprints in the substance, Challenger got out the Layton map and began studying it for limestone structure that might be large enough for an operations base or slavers' camp.

Challenger isolated three low mountains that might contain large caverns or tunnels, and showed them to Roxton. One was only four miles from the river, making it a likely choice.

They asked for wariors to sweep the area, but Jacoba said that he needed his men to hunt, fish, and guard their women in the yam, manioc, maize, and tapioca fields. Since Spirit Jaguar had come, the guard in the fields had been trebled.

"We need some means of enticing the old villain to provide us with help," mused Roxton. "But what incentive can we offer? No guns, or other items we can't replace. He won't be too interested in jewels. George, how many Maria Theresa thalers do we have left?" These heavy Austrian silver coins were widely accepted in the far corners of the Earth, and the expedition had brought a good stock as trade material.

"Several thousand pounds' worth, I suppose," Challenger replied. "But I'm not sure how interested Jacoba would be in them. He has treasure, some looted from Spaniards hundreds of years ago."

Veronica had a sudden inspiration, and drew Challenger aside and talked softly with him. After a moment, Challenger's face lit up, and he nodded in agreement.

They sent for Xma'Klee, and Challenger asked if Jacoba might not relent and offer help if Challenger could provide him with a blonde woman. The medicine man shrugged, and said that this might be so, but where would they find a yellow- haired girl? Veronica certainly wasn't a candidate, and the only others nearby were Amazons, highly unlikely to sell or trade one of their number to an Indian. The same was true of the distant people they had heard of who were descended from Dutch explorers, who had been saved from the dictatorship of the ambitious scientist Rice by the Treehouse dwellers.

"Do you know Jacoba's youngest wife, the girl with brown hair and unusually light skin, for a Zanga?" asked Challenger.

Xma'Klee nodded."She is called Ta'Leea. Her father was a white man who worked for Veronica's parents. When he was killed, her mother brought the girl here, and a Zanga man eventually married her, and adopted the child. I think she was three then, and Veronica was 12. There was nothing wrong in Jacoba marrying her late last year. He paid a very good bride price to her stepfather, who was pleased that she was marrying his chief. Jacoba likes fair-skinned girls, and she has been obedient and cheerful, a good wife. But her hair is brown, not yellow."

"Yes," said Challenger, "but I believe I can make a medicine that will dye her hair yellow, like Veronica's or Finn's. She will need to reapply this liquid from time to time as her hair roots grow out, but if I offer him a continuing supply of the substance, might he...?"

Xma'Klee and the others smiled. Yes, this was something of value that might entice the chief to help find the girls...

And so, it came to pass that Jacoba watched as Veronica and Ta'Leea washed and dyed Ta'Leea's hair and lightened it to a color that went ideally with her pale cafe au lait skin tone. She now looked for all the world like a European girl who had tanned a bit over the summer in the south of France. Jacoba was delighted, and "discovered" that perhaps he might after all spare some warriors to search for Finn and Marguerite. In all, he ordered some 30 men to get their spears, bows, and blowguns and assist the explorers. They could also seek Spirit Jaguar as they hunted the women and their captors. The route to the limestone cliffs was near where Spirit Jaguar had been wounded by the warrior whom he had mauled so grievously.

The rescue force moved downriver in a flotilla of canoes to the logical landing place nearest the limestone cliffs. Then, beaching the canoes, they left two men to guard them, and trekked up the trail left by Burton and his merry entourage. Going by river instead of through the jungle had saved them hours.

Eventually, they discovered the ruts left by the slave wagon's wheels and the hoofprints of the mens' horses.  
There were also some boot prints left in the moist soil that looked suspiciously like Finn's, which were not only her size, but which had a different sole pattern than on contemporary boots. But they found none attributable to Marguerite...

Roxton was very worried, but Challenger pointed out that Marguerite might still be unconcious from the drug, and have been placed in the cart that way. Finn had evidently wakened, and then been forced to walk.

The wariors spread out along both sides of the trail and moved forward, looking for any additional sign.

They had gone some three miles, when they heard a brief rattle of automatic fire that Roxton recognized from having heard it too often from the German lines in France and Belgium during the war: Maxim machine gun!

They estimated that the noise was from about a mile ahead, the sound carrying well on the still air, the night not yet having given way to dawn.

They called a brief council of war, and one group continued along the trail. The other, led by Roxton, Malone, and Challenger, consulted the map, and moved off to the right, where they should be able to see the cliffs from a distance, head-on, when the sun rose.

Back in the mountain, Finn, Marguerite, ma-Dook, and the three Zanga girls, crept up to the hallway leading off to Burton's quarters. Marguerite stuck her head around the corner to see if anyone was watching, and Phil immediately fired a short burst from the Bergmann. The slavers were alert and ready.

"Now, Finn! Throw the grenade," shouted Marguerite, and heaved a brass doorknob they'd taken off of Room 3. Phil saw it coming, and took no chances. "Grenade!", he repeated, ducking back into Burton's room.

"What dn grenade!", snarled Burton. Those broads don't HAVE any grenades. We have them all locked up." And sure enough, no blast or fragments of steel rang down the hall.

"I bleeping TOLD you that Marguerite is tricky!", howled Burton. His shoulder now bandaged, he drew his .45 and led the charge down the hall, only to see his quarry disappearing behind the door to the stables.

The door slammed shut, and Finn quickly stuck a chair behind it at an angle that would require considerable effort to dislodge the chair and force the door.

As they passed the cages, they were horrified to see and hear the roaring elephants, pumas, and jaguars. They stayed well clear of the cages. Marguerite noticed a technical paper lying on a desk offset from the main aisle and asked ma-Dook what it was. It had Gloop's family crest on the cover.

ma-Dook said that it was a treatise on the project, and Marguerite swept it up for Challenger to read when they found their friends. If anyone could understand what was being done here, it would be Finn's mate, the genius scientist.

They shot a man who tried to stop them at the far door, and pulled on a large rotating deadbolt lock to release the huge double doors, then ran out into the night.

Moving off swiftly into the darkness, they paused to catch their breath and to ease the badly wounded ma-Dook to cover behind a rock outcropping.

"Where the devil are we?", gasped Marguerite. "Finn, the vision said that you would be led by a star. See anything useful in the sky?"

Finn had been scanning the heavens. The remote Plateau was an ideal place for astronomy, the black night filled with millions of stars, so many that it was only with practice that one could identify the named constellations. And she had no idea WHICH star she was looking for!

Finn settled on Aldebaran, which Challenger had told her the Aztecs used as a sacrificial sign, ripping the hearts from their victims to greet the rising ruddy star. The significance might not extend this far south of the Valley of Mexico, but Finn could think of nothing else suitable, and it did lie on the course that she thought led to the Zanga village. She cursed the blindfold that she and the other slaves had worn en route to this place, and hoped desperately that her sense of direction wasn't off by too much.

ma-Dook had listened to her discourse with Marguerite, and looked where she pointed. So did the other girls, and they showed fright, one even cringing and whimpering a little. ma-Dook nodded, as if he had expected this choice.

"What's wrong?" asked Finn. "Is there anything scary about that star?"

"It is the 'Blood Star'", said one called Sa'ria, and she shivered. "The shamans consult it before battles and offer the souls of our enemies to its fiery embrace, that their ghosts may perish, and not wander the land to cause mischief." She reached over to hold another girl's hand and they looked down and trembled.

Marguerite and Finn looked at one another and nodded at the unspoken thought that passed between them. This sounded like the star they should choose.

They helped ma-Dook to stand, using the Mauser rifle they'd taken from the dead guard in the animal chamber as a crutch. They knew they had to move further into the jungle before Burton's men forced the blocked door and swarmed out with flashlights and torches , to track them.

As dawn approached, the explorers watched the Zanga paint themselves for war. They spread out in an extended skirmish line, and as the sun broke above the mountain to the east, Roxton, Malone, and Challenger joined their savage companions in walking toward the white cliffs emerging from the shadows of night.

A harpy eagle screamed and wheeled overhead, probably trying to see a monkey for breakfast, by the dawn's early light. Xma'Klee told Challenger that this was an omen of war, and that he felt that they would indeed find their enemies soon.

Roxton wanted to cover the distance to a rise of ground from which he and Challenger could train their binoculars on the cliffs from cover, studying them before going out in the open in that direction. He had to assume that the slavers might have their own lookouts, and he wanted to see them first.

The line of warriors advanced into the open and began moving swiftly across a stretch of grassland. They had almost reached the next patch of concealing jungle when a shot rang out. They had been seen!

They went to ground, trying to hide behind stumps and boulders, whatever cover they could find. Some Zanga rushed toward the trees. Roxton got out his Bausch & Lomb 8X30 glass and began sweeping the broken terrain above them. He saw movement in the shadows, and just as he found the moving figures in his field of view, Challenger recognized them first.

"Don't shoot, Roxton! That's the women and some Zanga girls!That shot must have been them signalling! " He rose and waved. Marguerite and Finn waved back, and the friends rushed toward one another.

As they closed, Finn laid her carbine against a log a few yards away and rushed headlong at Challenger. He had barely enough time to pass his rifle to Malone before she jumped directly into his arms, swinging her legs around his waist in a secondary embrace. She was crying and he held her, kissing her lips, then at the tears that flowed from her smudged, weary eyes.

Marguerite handed ma-Dook off to a warrior who came foward to support him, then strolled jauntily up to Roxton, trying to look for all the world as if she was walking down a street in Kensington Gardens. The rifle slung from her shoulder marred that image, though, and he recognized the stress in her carriage, however hard she sought to mask it.

"Well, Lord Roxton," she began, "Fancy finding you here. Looking for a good pastry shop?"

Roxton looked amused, and asked, "Yes: can you recommend one nearby? I'd really prefer Eggs Benedict, if you haven't eaten yet, though."

Xma'Klee looked at the couple strangely, understanding their words, but not the cool English humor.

"John," she began, "We have so much to tell you, but breakfast will have to wait. There are armed men chasing us, and we need to get under cover before we talk."

Finn forced herself to disengage from Challenger, who walked her over to pick up the Winchester, and the group moved forward to the tree line, where the remainder of the war party was already hiding. Marguerite noticed that Finn and Challenger had their arms around each others' waists and were talking softly, but urgently. At one point,. he stopped and pulled her to him and squeezed her fiercely. Then, all were sitting in a small clearing and the women began telling the entire story of their captivity. Marguerite passed Gloop's journal to Challenger, and he read it by the rays of the first sunlight to push through the tall canopy. Somewhere, a marmoset screamed. The harpy eagle had found breakfast, and it wasn't Eggs Benedict.

"This is absolutely incredible," mused Challenger, studying the grand plan devised by Gloop.

"This fellow Gloop has been implanting electrodes into the limbic, brainstem, thalamus, and hypothalamus systems of animals' brains. He then fits them with a bronze collar using gold as a primitive conductor for the circuitry that lets him control the animals' actions from his headquarters. Solar power charges the cells in the collar, and he can overide the beasts' own reactions, making them do violence on a level far greater than most animals ever contemplate on their own."

"He evidently intends to use a number of jaguars, pumas, and elephants to attack native villages here, including our Zanga friends. There is an agreement between him and an outcast witch doctor named Xu'ac to overthrow Jacoba and rule the Zanga. And our old friend Avery Burton is the head of the slavery ring that took our young women and some Zanga girls that have disappeared. Burton will have his quota of women to sell in exchange for his thugs' services in conquering the natives. Then, Burton and his gang will leave with their chained girls, and this insane Prof. Gloop will rule the entire Plateau! How extraordinary! We must stop this!"

Told that Burton had already killed Gloop, the men decided that the urgent priority was to overcome Burton and his henchmen, and then destroy the caverns where the evil enterprise was based.

ma-Dook was made as comfortable as could be, and Challenger dressed his injury, a serious sucking chest wound. The Zanga maiden, Sa'ria, who had explained the role of Aldebaran in their mythology asked to remain with him, and a warrior also agreed to stay. It was becoming clear that ma-Dook had helped the girls because he knew this Zanga beauty, and had wished to marry her, but her father had set too high a bride price. Thus, ma-Dook had taken work with Gloop to enhance his fortunes, not realizing that the Zanga village would be targeted as well as those of other tribes.

The party moved out, but had gone only 200 yards when they came under fire from Burton's men.

"Everyone! Move! Move! Fan out and find cover!" yelled Roxton, waving his hand to indicate what he was saying. "Try and surround him making a circle if possible. Move! Move!"

Everyone obeyed, trying to find a good place to hide behind. Some of the warriors went in a different direction, obviously knowing a secret path that few knew about. Malone took Veronica by the hand and they started moving to the left.

"Come on Veronica. Hurry!" said Malone.

They reached a round, medium sized mound that protected them when they sat down. Both sat and drew their respective weapons. Crouching, Veronica looked up and saw that Avery's men were fanning out as well, with a few backing up and moving away from the action.

"Those men there, backing up. I wonder where they are going," asked Veronica. "I don't like it."

"I see what you mean," said Malone. "But we have those warriors taking that secret path over there." He moved his head in the direction of the path. "Hopefully they'll get the enemy before they get us."

Both looked back at what was in front of them. They saw Roxton yelling, firing his gun. Marguerite was crouching, loading her gun. She periodically looked up at Roxton with a proud look on her face. She could always count on him, that's nothing new. She remembered that first time he had seen her naked, in the lake. They had just arrived at the plateau, resting. She, washing, trying to have a little swim before they started out again. She remembered fondly how he saved her from the alligator. Now, he would do anything for her. No matter what.

"We should try and get in a better position. To try and get Burton unaware," said Veronica. "Don't you think Ned?"

"Sure, but we should probably wait here for a few minutes. I mean, I don't want us to get hurt and well, I was kind of hoping that I could fire my gun before we move," replied Malone, rather sheepishly. 

"Oh. Ok," said Veronica. Smiling. She thought of that time they shared together a while back, when they made love. What she felt was incredible. She loved Malone being in control for once. He seemed almost natural at telling her what to do to him. And vice versa. Though she wasn't in control as much, she couldn't get it out of her head how easy it was for Ned to be in control. She loved him being on top of her, kissing, and caressing her. How he would come from behind, like he did. She didn't know her first time would be that incredible. From that moment on, she knew that they would always be together. No matter what.

She came to and realized that Ned was done firing his gun. He loaded quickly and turned toward her.

"Let's go. I think we're good now," said Malone. The natural commander coming out of him now. "We should go further up here. It gives us more of an angle to shoot from."

Malone and Veronica went further to the left over some roots and fallen rocks that had been dislodged from some sort of quake or other disturbance. They both got behind two separate trees and could see Burton and his men several yards in front of them. Veronica thought it couldn't have gotten any easier. How could this be unguarded over in this area? And then realized it could be a trap.

Before she could think anymore, five men coming running from behind. The same men they had seen earlier, when they were behind the mound.

One man, who was obviously the leader, had a big scar down his throat. It must have been from one of the jaguars, as it seemed to be still fresh. Only a few days old.

"You should have been more careful, lass," replied the leader. "Wouldn't want you to die, now would we? Master doesn't like a girl harmed or nothin."

"What are you going to do? Catch me?" asked Veronica, in the most innocent voice as possible.

"Well certainly miss," replied another man. "We's need all the girls we can get. Beggin your pardon of course. But Mr. Burton likes his slave girls. So we's needs as many as possible."

With that, Veronica got two of her hidden knives and hit the man and the leader at the same time. Both clutched the knives and then fell down. Dying almost instantly.

"Nobody messes with me and then gets away with it,"  
said Veronica. "Who wants a piece of me now?"

"No, don't Veronica. I'll take care of it. No need to worry. Go get Avery and kill him. See what you can do with that," replied Ned. He looked at her hard, almost earnestly.

Veronica looked at Ned, almost taken aback by what he said. Then realized that perhaps he is learning to take command in situations like these now.

"Go!" 

He motioned for her to run and lifted his gun. She started running and then heard a tussle in the background. She heard someone falling and then two shots. She started to turn around and then realized she was starting to run into Burton's side of the battle. She stopped, remembering she could accidentally be mistaken as the enemy before it's to late. She then saw the mound where she and Ned had been and started running for it. She wanted to talk to Roxton first before she went to Avery. She wanted some reinforcements before she went any further.

But before she could do that, she felt a bullet hit her in the upper left shoulder and arm. She stifled a scream and fell down. She rolled on her right side, clutching her left shoulder.

Finn saw Veronica falling down and started running toward her. As she ran, she saw two of the enemy go up to Veronica. Finn ran back and motioned to Roxton to look over in Veronica's direction. He saw what was going on and shot the two men square in the head. Both Roxton and Finn ran over to Veronica to see if she was alright.

Veronica's wound was extremely serious, and after using a Zanga girl's bandeau top to rig a pressure bandage, they called Ned Malone over and charged him with getting her clear of the battle area. 

"Get her to safety, Ned", demanded Roxton, " and stay with her. She will be in enormous pain. Keep her warm and her feet elevated a little, and get water into her. She may go into shock. We'lll be along to help as soon as we can." He clasped Veronica by the hand and assured her that all would be on the way to help her as soon as they could, telling her how much he cared for her, as they each did.

She smiled wanly, and Ned and two Zanga girls supported her and went off looking for a secure hiding place that afforded cover from stray bullets. The second girl had offered her top to make a sling, and Ned held Veronica under her uninjured arm.

Poor Finn was doing her best not to cry. She kissed Veronica and promised to join her friend as soon as circumstances allowed and almost told Malone that he had better save "V." or else, when she realized that Ned was as desperate to protect her as she was. They both loved the blonde jungle beauty whose home and heart they had come to cherish.

Finn picked up her Winchester, deciding that she probably had six shots still in the tubular magazine. They had gotten their guns back in the escape, but only the sidearms on their belts had spare ammunition. They had not found the bandoliers with their rifle cartridges.

Challenger ran up and told Finn to follow him. He meant to see that they got Burton, while not letting Finn out of his sight. He wasn't up to going through what he had gone through the last two days, not knowing if she was alive or dead. Finn saw this in his eyes, hugged him, and they ran up the hill, one covering the other's progress from what protection they found as they moved, one ready to shoot as the other advanced.

Suddenly, a huge commotion arose from the enemy compound. Wild trumpeting and screaming announced that the herd of wild elephants had discovered the open door through which Marguerite and the others had fled, with the slavers in hot pursuit. Either no one had secured the door, or had done a poor job, and the huge pachyderms were now within the animal pens, wreaking terrible damage. A human scream reached them, abruptly snuffed out as the rampage continued.

Challenger was now in position to view the cavern through his Zeiss glass and stared in amazement. He passed the binocular to Finn as she joined him, and they watched as several big cats ran out, dodging an angry elephant's feet and trunk.

Then, the elephant that had been caged walked out, supported by two young bulls. Challenger looked to see if it wore the bronze collar, and it did, but seemingly was unaffected, the power being turned off.

"Wait for us!" called Marguerite, and she and Lord Roxton scrambled up and took in the scene.

"I'm not going in there until those elephants leave. With luck, it won't be long." exclaimed Roxton. "Just look at the damage they're doing!"

"Look at the damage I'm about to do to charming Mr. Phil, " muttered Marguerite, carefully aiming her Rigby at the unfortunate slaver, who stood about a hundred yards away, gaping at the destruction in the compound.

At her shot, Phil spun violently around and stumbled twice, looking toward them. "You bitch! Avery was right about you," he howled, coughing up blood from his ruined lungs. Before Marguerite could cycle the rifle bolt and fire again, Phil fell backward, hitting the earth with a solid, final-sounding thud.

"Well, that's one down," said Challenger. "Nice shooting, Marguerite."

"That's the last time he'll tell any girl to get her head all the way down on the floor in front of him," Marguerite said, in clipped, bitter tones. "He's also the worthy who whipped me for trying to get Gloop's gun. He loved that. I shan't miss him."

"You didn't," punned Roxton. "Get hold of yourself, Marguerite. Stay cool. Be mad if you want, but keep it under control, or you may do something rash." He touched her right shoulder tenderly, and some of the hate left her, although cold resolve to kill any of the slavers she could remained.

They started forward, charting a course back toward the front door, to evade the elephants. The problem was to avoid the Maxim crew, who were probably traversing their machinegun in search of targets.

But when they paused to glass the ground near the entrance, they saw the Maxim standing in its sandbagged pit and no one in sight. The front door was standing open.

"Well," said Roxton, "there's no time like the present." "Spread out and follow me. George, Finn: watch left, up the slope. Marguerite, look to the right and center, like me. Let's go, while no one is here to oppose our advance." And they moved forward, rifles at the ready.

They eased up to the open double doors, and Roxton tossed in his hat, thinking that it might draw fire if anyone was there.Nothing happened.

"I shot out the connection box thingie for the lights in this hallway," said Finn. "It will be dark until we go down the hall quite a ways, but we can see if you leave the doors open wide."

He nodded, and they swung the doors wide and entered, hoping that they wouldn't have to shoot in these confined corridors, where the thunderclap of a high-powered rifle shot might well deafen them. Even a shot from one of his twin nickle-plated .455 Webley revolvers would leave his ears ringing for hours or a day or more, reflected Roxton. He grinned, thinking that this might not be all bad: if Marguerite had a tantrum, he wouldn't have to hear all that she said.

They slipped along the passageway, two on each side of the wall. avoiding the middle. Then,they saw the light from the hall to the right, and cautiously entered the passage toward Room 3, and on beyond past Burton's quarters to the animal pens.

As they passed Room 3, Marguerite hastily told Roxton its significance and Finn ducked her head in to see if there was anything there worth taking. There wasn't, and she felt a curious detachment in looking at the pole to which she had been chained. It felt like something that had happened months ago, not yesterday.

At the junction to Burton's room, they heard voices from down the hall. At least two men, maybe three, were talking, one raising his voice in places, and once yelling in pain. They all recognized Burton's voice. The women whispered that another was Ed's, and they didn't know the third man. Roxton set his rifle in a corner, drew his Webleys, and the others did likewise. Pistol shots here would be loud enough.

They had just begun tiptoeing toward Burton's room when a man came out, saw them, and recoiled back into the room. "Boss," he shouted. It's them white broads, and they have men with them!"

There was a stirring that led Roxton to rush past the room, firing two quick shots from each gun as he passed the door. He was right: the noise was deafening. A body hit the floor and another man grunted in pain. A return shot ricocheted off the wall and caromed down the hall.

"Burton," Challenger ordered. "We know you're in there. Surrender or die!".

"You more likely mean 'surrender AND die', don't you?" retorted the smuggler and slaver. "Who the hell is that? Prof. Challenger?"

"Yes," answered Challenger. "And if you'll show us the way off this infernal Plateau, we'll turn you over to the authorities for trial. I give you my personal guarantee that we won't harm you, in spite of the foul things that you've done to our women."

"Your women? I knew that Marguerite was friendly with Lord Roxton. Who does Nikki sleep with? Who is she really? Your daughter? I know that she lied to me about where she's from. Her cute little red -handled Swiss knife and that lacy booby trap thing she wears didn't originate here."

"Never you mind that," commanded an angry Challenger. "Come out peacefully, or we'll start a fire and smoke you out."

They heard a brief scuffling sound -someone making a short run - from within, and a Mills bomb, what the Americans called a hand grenade, came skipping out into the corridor. 

Finn alone had held onto her rifle, as it fired revolver cartridges and wasn't much louder than a handgun. It was also short enough to manipulate in the hallways and easier to hit with in a snap shot. She saw the grenade bounce off the wall, stepped forward, and swung the butt of the Winchester at it. The grenade skidded back into the room, as the party in the hall dropped to their stomachs to present small targets for the flying fragments when it exploded.

It went off almost immediately with a loud CRUMP! and a clatter of metal bits flying viciously around the room, some out into the hall. Roxton gasped as he was struck by a fragment and one knocked Challenger's hat off. Another grazed the heel of one of Marguerite's boots. Then, their ears ringing, Roxton and Challenger plunged into the room, revolvers cocked and ready.

They saw Ed scrabbling on the floor, obviously mortally wounded, and incoherent. Another man lay on his face, clearly having borne the brunt of the grenade blast. He would never trouble anyone again, ever. Avery Burton had flipped his bed over and taken cover behind it as he saw the grenade come back into the room, and he raised up now, blood leaking from his ears, one of which was also badly cut, as was his his scalp and a shoulder. He raised his .45 and Challenger quickly shot twice at him through the mattress, the big Colt's bullets easily passing through the padding and striking Burton high in the chest just as Roxton shot him, also. 

Bucking violently, Burton lurched back. lost his footing, and crashed into the wall behind his bed. Stunned, he could barely register Marguerite and Finn entering the room, their guns levelled at his head.

"Where are my knife and bra, you scum?" snapped Finn.

Burton took in who she was, and his voice burbling with the blood entering his pierced lungs, muttered, "Oh, Nikki. I didn't recognize you with your clothes on." He laughed, a horrible sound, rank with the noise of impending death.

Finn grimaced and drew her .38. "This is for what you did to poor Marguerite and the rest of us," she snarled and put a bullet through Burton's head. Death was instantaneous. Everyone else looked uncomfortably at her, but said nothing.

Challenger looked around the room, noting that Ed was now still, also, and touched Finn on her back. "Let's go, Darling. You have your revenge, and we need to get out of here before others come."

Finn nodded and told him to get Burton's gun and ammunition, which would also fit George's gun, the same model. She ran her eyes around the room and dashed to a dresser in one corner, where she had seen a flash of red plastic. She snatched up her knife, fumbled under an overturned chair, and picked up her black bra.

Roxton holstered his reloaded Webleys, scooped up Ed's .45 automatic and followed the others out into the hall. Picking up their rifles, they went now toward the animal pens.

Opening the door, they could hear sporadic shooting from the jungle beyond, and several shots answered from near the mouth of the cave. The roaring of a caged jaguar and the blood -curdling screams of two pumas added to the din. The pens looked as if a tornado had struck them, but the elephants had gone.

"Come on. Let's hurry. We can take her over here by this big tree with the moss," said Ned quickly.

The two girls set Veronica down by the big tree. It was a good two yards in circumference and covered in moss and vines. It reminded Malone of the Redwood forest in California. Big and unreal. He looked up and down feeling good about the coverage he had chosen for them.

"Do you think she'll be ok?" asked Malone. The concern in his voice evident.

"Yes. She will be. The wound could have been worse, but it's not good either," replied one of the girls. 

"Good, good. Listen Veronica, rest. You need your rest so you can go back to the tree house."

"Ned? Are you there?" asked Veronica. She sounded groggy. "I feel awful."

Malone chuckled to himself, smiling broadly. He was filled with happiness just to hear her voice. "Yeah. Roxton said you may not feel good at first, but you'll be fine. I'm here to protect you."

He quickly wiped away some tears before any of the girls could see them. He sobered up quickly, got up and checked to see if they had been followed. They hadn't. He looked around again, before, he knelt beside Veronica and looked at her. He set his gun down beside him. He didn't need it, this time.

"Malone, do you remember when we first met?" asked Veronica.

"Sure do," replied Malone.

"You were so helpless," laughed Veronica. "You know, it doesn't matter the situation, I'll always have to save you."

She smiled again broadly, reminiscing the day she first rescued him and met him. She secretly knew that they would spend the rest of their lives together. But wasn't sure if she wanted that exactly. She had been on her own for so long that it just seemed so foreign to her to even think of being with someone else, besides her parents. However, in the three years she had come to know him, they had become very close. Even if they had some rocky patches along the way.

"Ha-Ha. Very funny. Just be glad I came along. If I hadn't battled those men, who knows what would have happened?"

"I'd have taken them on and told you to run. Neddy."

They both laughed at that nickname. Malone rolled his eyes and put his hand in hers. It felt nice to touch her skin again. Her hands always felt so warm, soft, and welcoming. He could always trust on that. Touching her and to just be close to her was the only thing he could count on in this world. He kissed her hand and put it up against his check.

"I love you so much Veronica. I couldn't ever stop."

He sat up against the tree putting Veronica's head in his lap.

"When I was out on my own here in the jungle, I realized how much I missed you. I guess the saying is true how you never miss anything until you don't have it anymore. And that's just what happened. Once I left, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I missed your smell, the touch of your skin. But the one thing I just couldn't get out of my head, was your voice. It haunted me in my dreams, while I was awake. It didn't matter what I was doing, I could just always hear you in the background commenting on the way I was doing things. How I would dress, who I would talk to. The way I would fire my gun."

Veronica laughed and looked up at him.

"What can I say?"

He bent down and kissed her forehead. Malone stroked her hair and went on.

"You've made me a better man. I have appreciated so much more in life now that I've met you. I just didn't feel that way with Gladys. I felt so restrained by her and the rest of society. But here, I could be me and not worry about what others thought. I just feel free."

"Hmmmm."

Ned closed his eyes and leaned his head against the tree. He thought of all the moments he had shared with Veronica since his arrival. He loved every second of it.

"Malone? Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," replied Malone.

"Have you ever thought of staying here with me? You know, when the others leave to go back to London?" asked Veronica.

Ned took a moment before he answered that question. Yes, he had thought about that on his trip, but never fully dealt with it.

"I guess. I mean, there really isn't much back home for me. I could always give my notes to Challenger to take back. People will be interested in what happened here and what it's like."

"What about Gladys?"

"Gladys. She's a great girl and all, but I've decided she's not the one for me. We never were right for each other. It's hard, you know? On the one hand, I've got you and on the other, is Gladys and everyone else. I don't know. I don't want to talk about it."

With that they both sat in silence. Each thinking of what they could say, yet afraid to say it. But they had gotten to the point where they didn't need to say much to each other. They could just sit together for hours and not say a word.

Veronica thought back to the picnic she had had earlier in the day with Malone. God, she how happy she was to see him again. She couldn't keep her eyes off of him when she first saw Malone. When Veronica saw him, she ran up to him and gave him the biggest hug she could ever give. She took in his smell and just stood there. Not letting him go for the longest time. She remembered telling him how she'll never let him out of her site again. She imagined that this is how she would feel when she saw her parents again. Oh how she missed her parents.

"I had a good time at the picnic today," said Veronica. "It had to have been the happiest day of my life."

"Oh yeah? Well, it wasn't to bad, if I do say so myself. I was sure glad to see you again. Couldn't have asked for anything better. Well, maybe some good beer and baseball, but we won't worry about that right now."

He looked down and saw that Veronica had fallen asleep. He was surprised.

"Well, that was fast. It sure doesn't bother you to fall asleep in the middle of a conversation."

He laughed quietly to himself. He slowly got up and put Veronica's head down. He put his pack under her head as a pillow. He walked over to the Zanga girls and looked out into the forest. In the distance they heard some leaves move. Malone quickly went to get his gun and ran back over to the girls.

"Listen, go back to Veronica and guard her. She still has her knives I think on her. Use those as protection."

They quickly did as they were told. Moving without any sound. Malone moved quietly to the sound, trying to be careful. But he soon realized that it was just his friends coming back from the fight. They looked a bit weary from what they had done. But that was a bit expected. They'd been through a lot.

"You guys had me scared for a second."

"Yes, well. We're not the bad guys, that's for sure," replied Roxton almost wearily. "We are here and that's all that matters. Is Veronica all right?"

"Yeah, is V. all right?" asked Finn.

"Oh sure. She's fine. She actually just fell asleep, so be quiet."

They walked quietly to where Veronica and the girls were. Finn rushed a little faster to her sitting down. She ran her hand down her face whispering to her. How close they had become. Finn started tearing up, but stopped before the others sat down. Malone asked what happened while he was away taking care of Veronica.

Xma'Klee walked up with a group of warriors but didn't approach the others. Theirs' was a private reunion, and he thought how much like a family they seemed.

He smarted internally from what had just happened in the cavern where the animals had been confined. He had entered and cast a javelin from his atlatl into one man, then was placing another shaft into the groove on the javelin thrower when another slaver had stood from behind a big box across the room. The man had pointed the Bergmann submachine gun at him, and Xma'Klee knew that there was no way he could finish placing the javelin in its trough, spin, and cast the weapon before he was riddled with 9mm bullets.

Then, he heard the crash of two guns, and the slaver jerked and collapsed. He tried to rise, and another bullet him in the back of the head and his time in this world ended as abruptly as a frog's tongue plucks a fly from the air.

Xma'Klee looked to the left and beyond the boxes and saw Challenger reloading the .375 Holland & Holland Magnum that he'd brought instead of his usual .450 double rifle. Finn stood by him, a slight heat haze and wisp of smoke at the muzzle of her .44 Winchester.

The explorers came carefully down to Xma'Klee and asked if all was well. They told of killing Burton and the others upstairs, and no one else was in sight.

Xma'Klee shuffled his feet and was obviously squirming a bit internally.

"What troubles you, geat shaman?" asked Challenger. "You seem ill at ease. Have we had many casualties?"

"Three men will hunt no more," admitted the witch doctor. But that is war. We will mourn them, and I will conduct the ceremony for the fallen when we return to our home. What bothers me is this: I owe you my life. It is unsettling to be saved by strangers, and especially embarrassing to know that the one who fired the killing shot at this man who menaced me was a female. Our women do not use weapons. It is unlucky for them to handle arms, lest they curse them, and a bow or spear fail in the hunt or in battle. Say nothing of this, Finn, I implore you. I would be ridiculed for having to be saved by a woman. George Challenger, if you speak of this, it is you who must have shot this man. But I will not forget this, Finn, and though a girl, you should know that I will hold your deed in my heart. Someday, you may need a favor from me, for such is the way of the world. Know that my memory is long."  
And he turned and walked swiftly away, as Finn and Challenger looked at one another in surprise.

The Roxtons came up now, having checked the remainder of the compound. They decided to try to release the remaining animals later, if they coud find a safe way to do so. Probably, the cats would run out of the cages and bolt for the door, as long as no one blocked the way.

"Let's find Malone and V," suggested Finn. "I'm really worried about her. If that wound turns septic in this jungle..."

The others agreed and soon found the Treehouse owner and her companions, as has been described above.

After rallying their forces and taking stock of injuries, Malone and Roxton returned to the cave and one opened the cages while the other stood with rifle ready. But the cats all fled, as expected.

When the men returned to their friends, litters had been made for the dead and the wounded, numbering four, counting Veronica. They were almost ready to leave when Xma'Klee motioned the former captives aside and asked one to lead him to the cell where they had been held.

Roxton overheard and he and Challenger also wished to see the cell, Challenger in part because he wanted to actually see the walls that Xma'Klee had described so vividly after his vision. Could he really have seen such detail? It was of compelling scientific interest. Roxton was more interested in seeing that Marguerite would be safe and in knowing what she had undergone.

In the cell later, Xma'Klee and Challenger marvelled at the accuracy with which the former had seen detail. He touched several shellfish and one trilobyte impressions in the limestone and told Challenger, "This I saw. Here is the place of my vision, indeed. And I saw something else, which these women have forgotten."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," commented Marguerite, a bit archly. "I don't think that Finn or I will ever forget anything that took place here." Then, a thought struck her. "Oh. You mean the blankets?"

Xma'Klee nodded smugly, and walked over to the bed and took them.

Looking at the pallet triggered a thought in Finn. "M," she asked, " when I woke up that morning after they'd whipped you, I asked Burton what it was that you'd done to make them so angry. He told me about you hitting Gloop with that champagne bottle and going for his gun. But I never got to ask you why you thought you could get away with that. Where were Burton and his men?"

"Ed had gone down the hall to use the loo," the brunette answered, "and I saw my chance. I was alone with Gloop and he didn't seem to realize how vulnerable he was. Men just take it for granted that an unarmed woman is helpless. It might be the best chance we'd get to not wind up being sold on an auction block in Yemen or Arabia, to some vile emir or sheik who would enjoy taunting his white slaves. So, I went for it."

"I just had no idea that Phil and Burton were about to walk back into the room after checking the outside guards." She shrugged. "They slapped me around some, and had me strip before taking me to the training room and tying my hands above my head and elevating me until I was on my toes. Then, they took turns with the whip, seeing which of them could make me scream the loudest. Burton was very explicit in telling me just what I'd be expected to do and what he'd do to me in a couple of days when the...more intimate... phase of our training began. He said that he'd soon have me begging to please him, or he'd make me wish I had. Some of the incentives to please that he mentioned left no doubt in my mind that I'd better adopt your approach to keeping him happy. Thank goodness, we escaped before they went any further with us." She sniffled and wiped away a tear, and Roxton hugged her and told her that all was well now, and how glad he was to have her back.

The others went to look at the Zanga girls' cell and to gather the blankets there. Finn lingered in the first enclosure, and when no one was watching, she scooped up the handcuffs that she'd worn, and those that had been on Marguerite's wrists. ma-Dook had left the keys in them, and Finn slipped all of these items into her shorts. Then, she joined the others and they left this place of incarceration, she hoped for the final time.

They joined the warriors and the other couple from the Treehouse, and within a few hours, were striding into the Zanga village, looking forward to rest, food, water, and medicine for their injured. (TEA, demanded Marguerite's mind.) They would deal with the escaped black jaguar later.

When the group entered the Zanga village, they were greeted warmly. Assai was the first to greet her friends. She couldn't begin to describe how happy she was to see them; she hugged each and every one of them intensively, and she made sure that they were all treated with the respect they deserved. After all, they had not only brought their own women back, but also the young Zanga women who had been kidnapped. And so, our group of explorers were greeted by every single member of the Zanga tribe. Even Chief Jacoba was forced to give them a warm welcome: after all, he had to set the right example to his people!

The wounded were quickly carried into one of the huts that served as a sort of hospital, taking them out of the sun, and with all the medical supplies needed. Malone followed Veronica and the other wounded into the hut. He wasn't about to leave Veronica by herself at the moment.

But as full of cheer and laughter as the village had been just a minute ago, all went quiet after the last person of the returning group had walked into the village: ma-Dook! He had left the village months ago, and his people had believed that he had chosen to live a life of sin and crime, especially after word had gotten out that he was working for some strangers who were involved in enslaving women, among other sordid enterprises.

So, when ma-Dook walked into the village he had lived in all his life up until a few months ago, he didn't get the warm welcome that the others had gotten. To the contrary, his welcome was more one of hostility than anything else.

As soon as he set foot in the Zanga village, Chief Jacoba ordered his guards to surround him and take him prisoner. "This traitor is not to be trusted and will be tried for his crimes by the Council of Elders", Chief Jacoba said. He ordered the guards to take ma-Dook to the middle of the village square and to tie him to one of the poles sticking out of the ground: poles that were meant for the punishment and ridicule of those who had dared to break the rules or defy the chief.

But before ma-Dook could be tied up, both Finn and Marguerite, though tired and still wrapping their heads around the ordeal they had gone through the past couple of days, reacted to the scene that had been going on before their eyes. "Stop!", both of them yelled at the same time.

"You can't punish him; he helped us. He FREED us!", Finn cried out.

"If it wasn't for ma-Dook, Finn and I and the Zanga women would never have been freed. We probably would have been shipped off of the plateau as slaves as soon as Burton had finished training us!", Marguerite added, as calmly as possible.

Thankfully, the others backed them up. Both Roxton and Challenger pleaded with Chief Jacoba to let ma-Dook go, explaining that they would never have had a successful mission if it hadn't been for him. "You should thank him for saving the lives of your tribe's women and for getting rid of the slavers, and of Professor Gloop and his men", Roxton said.

When his witch doctor, Xma'Klee, joined the others in their plea, Chief Jacoba no longer had a choice. He had to listen to what they said, for his witch doctor was a well respected man in the village, held in superstitious awe by the Zanga.

Once again Xma'Klee told the story of the rescue of the women, how they had killed the slavers and how he himself was rescued by one of the 'strangers' that he was now supporting, Challenger! While saying Challengers name, he exchanged a look with both Challenger and Finn, quietly reminding them of what they had agreed up on earlier.

Jacoba, though impressed by the story, especially the heroics of his own men, still wasn't convinced of the innocence of ma-Dook in this story. Even though, he had apparently done some good and helped the women escape out of the clutches of the slavers, he still had done evil things while helping that crazy professor.

But at the moment the chief wanted to share his concerns with his people in an attempt to convince them that ma-Dook was in fact evil and only trying to escape any kind of punishment and trying to get taken back into the fold of the Zanga tribe, a soft voice spoke up!

Sa'ria, the Zanga maiden who had been one of the women taken hostage by Burton and his men, slowly came forward. Though she was shy and usually knew her place when speaking to a man, especially the chief, she had now found a reason and the determination to speak up. And with every word she spoke her voice grew louder and she became even more determent.

Softly, but surely she began telling the story, hers and ma-Dook's. How he had wanted to marry her, how her father refused because ma-Dook didn't have enough money for the endowment he had asked. How ma-Dook, determent to marry her, had told her he had found a way to earn a lot of money in not to long a time and how he had gone to work for professor Gloop.

She told everyone how she had been captured by Burton and his men, how ma-Dook had made sure that she and the other women weren't treated too bad, slipping them some extra water and food every now and then and giving them an extra blanket when it was cold. How he'd come by as often as he could without being seen by professor Gloop and the others, just to make sure they where ok and to talk to them, promising them that he would not let anything bad happen to them and that he would not allow Burton to take them off of the plateau.

Last but not least, she told them how one night not long ago, ma-Dook had come to their cell and freed them and the white women, how he had taken them out of that place and out of the hands of the slavers and the crazy professor.

She ended her story with three little words that made ma-Dook, despite his predicament and injuries, light up, "I love him", Sa'ria said, looking pleadingly at the man standing before her, hoping that he would forgive her for speaking up to him in front of his people.

But there were two things she knew would help the chief with his forgiveness. One was knowing that she had moved her fellow Zanga tribesmen and even her father with her story and two was knowing that her sister was chief Jacoba's favorite and youngest wife Ta'Leea. The same wife that first was a beautiful brunette and now a platinum blonde like both Veronica and Finn.

Sa'ria was hoping that Jacoba would not want to cross his favorite wife, not wanting to be denied access to her sleeping quarters and that he would listen to her when she pleaded on her sisters behalf. And sure enough after Sa'ria had finished her story and chief Jacoba was about to let his wrath loose upon her, Ta'Leea silently placed her hand on her husbands arm and made Jacoba swallow his words.

After Ta'leea had taken her husband aside for a few minutes, chief Jacoba stood up in front of his people and announced his decision. He had decided that ma'Dook's motives were pure of heart, to be able to marry his one true love he went to earn money as a good warrior should. He had made some bad decisions, but he had set things right when taking care of the women and helping them escape. So, chief Jacoba concluded, ma'Dook deserved a reward for his bravery, he would arrange for ma-Dook and Sa'ria to marry as soon as the mourning period of those killed was over. And so, the guards were ordered to release ma-Dook immediately.

Of course it was Ta'Leea who had suggested all that Jacoba had said, knowing that her father would never go against the chief's wishes and wanting her sister to be happy. But as always, the chief made her ideas seem his own. As long as everyone would get what they deserved, Ta'Leea didn't mind and seeing how happy the two people in front of her were, only made it seem that more trivial.

The issue of ma-Dook having been settled, the occupants of the village ate a quiet supper, mourning the three fallen warriors. Following tradition in this hot, humid land, their bodies would be sent on their way to the spirit world this very night. Tomorrow, there would be celebration of their bravery, with a feast and dancing, celebrating the recovery of the girls and the Zanga triumph over the slavers.

After dinner, men brought great stacks of wood and built three funeral biers in the open area beyond the palisade, where the land had been cleared to prevent a surprise attack. Warriors also practiced their martial skills here, and Challenger remarked drily to Roxton that it reminded him of the Field of Mars outside classical Rome.

A vast array of flowers were now piled atop the bodies, which had been placed on the biers. The perfume of the flowers evoked poetry in the Zanga, as it had in the Nahuatl, the Mexica civilization. The main difference was that the Zanga recited their poems orally, having no written language, whereas a considerable amount of Nahautl writing and a few illustrated codexes had survived the Catholic purge following the Conquest.

Now, all gathered silently before the throne of Jacoba. Veronica and the other wounded had been carried out in chairs, made comfortable where they could see the events as they unfolded with the rising of the full moon.

Xma'Klee and his two apprentice sorcerers danced the Dance of the Fallen Warrior, the men of the Jaguar and the Eagle Societies leading in the first choruses, then the younger Ocelot and Puma Society warriors joining in. All the while, the deep bass thumping of the war drums kept pace with the pulse, and the tribe watched in reverent silence unless they were allowed to join in the songs, some of which had words that meant nothing save to the shamans and the gods whom they represented.

Xma'Klee now walked to Jacoba with a cup of guava juice that had been blessed by him a moment before. The chief drank, Xma'Klee and his apprentices drank from their cups, and their women silently removed the empty cups.

Xma'Klee and Jacoba now approached the three biers, followed by the senior warriors of the Eagle, Jaguar, and Puma societies, each of the latter bearing a torch.

Xma'Klee and Jacoba said the ritual words at the head of each of the dead, and on Jacoba's signal, the warriors circled the biers, igniting the dry wood. When the biers were blazing, Xma'Klee passed by each, drizzling onto them a powder that produced bright flashes and colored smoke. The ceremonial party then withdrew to stand before Jacoba's throne, and a chanting platoon of warriors in full battle paint and bone armor sent flights of arrows aloft, brilliantly colored streamers flowing behind the head of each shaft.

All stood quietly then, save for the quieter thump of the drums, as the smoke from the biers was wafted aloft by the mild breeze.

Assai whispered to her white friends that the spirits of the dead were leaving their burning bodies as smoke, drifting to the heavens, where they would assemble again with the souls of the dead of generations past. They would live now until the Final Day, when the whole tribe would join them in the celestial village that they would build over the centuries.

"Look", she said,"pointing to Orion. "They go there, to dwell in the stars of nu'Rok, the Great Hunter."

Roxton told her that his people also knew this constellation as the Great Hunter, but named Orion. It seemed an impressive coincidence...

As the flames died, and the tribe returned to the huts, ma-Dook told the explorers that tomorrow, the bones of the dead would be powdered, then cast to the winds, that their spirits would be free to wander forever in the jungle, in a happy hunting ground. It was unclear to the visitors just how this differed from the souls gone to Orion, but ma-Dook said that Xma'Klee could explain such spiritual matters better than he, and left on his litter, asking the friends who bore him to take him and his future bride to see a spare hut that he would buy tomorrow from the owner. Fortunately, his wound seemed to be healing as much as could be expected at this stage, and he breathed normally, although his injured lung hurt when he drew a deep breath.

Later, in their own camp, the explorers sat, drinking tea and discussing what to do about Spirit Jaguar. They decided to send Roxton ahead of a long line of warriors and "beat" the most likely patches of forest, driving the beast toward Roxton's gun, as was done with tigers in India.

On this note, they tied shut the doors of their tents, so that ripping canvas might alert them to the jaguar breaking in, and slept with their guns by their sides. Zanga guards roamed the village throughout the night. Ned stayed in a hut with Veronica and Assai, and the Roxtons and the Challengers took a tent each. After all was still, Finn got off her cot, set it folded by the wall, and placed some cotton blankets over a mat on the floor of the tent. She nudged George awake, and pulled him down next to her on the improvised bedding. They slept entwined or close against one another through the night, in spite of the heat, on account of which Finn wore only panties. She was still cuddled against him when the Triceratops -horn trumpets of the Zanga heralds announced the dawn.

Ned and Assai sat across from each other, a fire in-between them. Veronica was off to the side in the middle. Veronica laid there falling in and out of sleep. She wanted to listen to them converse, but couldn't stay awake long enough to do so. Every now and then Malone would steal a glance over to Veronica staring at her. How he loved her. He'd never leave her alone again unless he absolutely had to. Not like he had done when he set off to not only find himself, but Veronica.

"So what did you think of the ceremony Malone? I hope you liked it," asked Assay.

"Yes. I liked it very much. I thought it was very interesting. I saw many similarities between your traditions and the traditions of another tribe. It's in another part of Latin America. Challenger knows more about it though," replied Malone.

"Yes. Challenger told me," laughed Assai. She looked at him intently. She could see that something was troubling him. She thought it could have been from earlier when he was fighting those two men back there and couldn't save Veronica from the bullet. She decided not to press him. After all, Veronica had survived and they were all happy for that. 

As Ned and Assai sat there staring into the fire, Veronica started calling out in her sleep. They couldn't understand it at first, but started to make it out once it became audible.

"Mother. Mother I'm here," smiled Veronica, asleep. She put her hand out as if it were meant to touch somebody that wasn't there. "Oh how I've missed you. I've missed you so much. Wait. Don't go! Mother!"

With that she sat up straight in her bed, cradling her arm. She'd gotten up to fast, making her arm hurt. She looked around the tent and found that it was only Malone and Assai that was in there.

"I dream't that my mother came to me in a dream. She said everything is alright. That I shouldn't worry about her and daddy coming home. She said every thing's alright."

She started crying, Malone noting, even though it wasn't very noticeable to many others, the sadness in her voice. After all these years, she may never see her parents again.

"I will get something for her to drink. I need to stretch my legs anyway and talk with my father," said a concerned Assai.

Malone nodded toward Assai and said thank you. He knew she didn't have to do that, but was thankful he could have another moment with Veronica alone. He went over to Veronica and cradled her in his arms.

"Shhhhhhhhh. Everything'll be alright. Don't worry," crooned Malone. "Everything's alright. Don't you worry."

Veronica just sat there hugging him, crying into his shoulder. He couldn't stand this when she acted like this. Because he knew how painful it was for her to remember that she may never find her parents again. Several minutes passed with them just sitting there. Only when she stopped crying did he lay her down and scooted a bit away so as to provide her with some room.

He thought she was asleep when he heard her talk.

"Thank you for staying with me."

"Oh, no problem. You know, I thought you were asleep there for a second."

She shook her head. She turned onto her back, grimaced for a second. She turned her head toward him. Her hands were across her stomach, en-laced within each other.

"Really. Nobody has ever done this for me before."

"Well, this shouldn't have happened in the first place, you getting shot and all. You were my responsibility and I sent you off because I thought I could handle the two bad guys. I guess not, huh?"

"But you did handle it Ned. That's the thing. You've stuck by me all this time. And I really like that. That's what I like about you. Your always there for me no matter what. I think your more eager to please me than Finn."

They both laughed at that. God knows Finn was always vying for Veronica's attention. Malone sometimes felt to much. But he didn't say anything.

"Yeah, well. I just know I could have handled it better."

Malone looked down and started plucking away on of the stray strings in one of the pillows. He blushed a bit and then looked back at Veronica. He was nervous.

"I love you," said Malone. He nodded, blushing a bit more.

"I love you too," replied Veronica.

He leaned over and started kissing her. What would have ended up being a small kiss, ended up being a full on passionate kiss. He moved to a more comfortable position so as to get in for a better feel. He started caressing her face and hair. Veronica had put her arms around him and now stroked his face. They looked at each other intently and then kissed again. Veronica moved her hands in his hair and then down his back. Malone, trying to be in control put her hands back on his head. He always liked it when she ran her fingers through his hair. In between kisses they tried to talk.

"Stop Malone."

"Make me."

They laughed, but he kept moving her hands back up to his head, but she wouldn't have it. "Come on Veronica. I thought you liked it when I was in control."

"Mmm-hmm."

He caressed the rest of her body, moving his hands slowly and gently up and down her leg. She started moaning, knowing what would happen next. They both laughed, knowing what they were about to do.

Assai started to walk in with Veronica's drink, but noticed what they were doing. She stopped and watched for a second. She closed the curtain and stepped away, smiling broadly.

Following breakfast, there was a council between the explorers and the Zanga hiearchy. Jacoba informed all present that the sentries had heard a disturbance in the jungle during the night, and that when the sun rose, men had scouted the area, and found a black caiman of the sort often called "jacare" near the river bank. It had been killed and mutilated, but the body had not been fed on to any degree, at least not by the killer. Tracks revealed this to be a large jaguar, which had gone in a northeasterly direction until the sign petered out.

The Layton map and the Zanga hunters were consulted, and all agreed that a jaguar headed in that direction probably would hole up in a particular rocky outcropping that afforded a good view of the jungle below. This outcropping had two shallow ravines leading down from it, caused by centuries of water erosion. At some times of the year, they even held flowing water or contained it in pools, and this would attract a big cat, along with the cover afforded in and around these ditches. Roxton reflected that they would be much like the "nullahs" in India. He knew that tigers fleeing a line of "beaters" often made for one of these nullahs as they escaped.

He told this to the others, and it was agreed that the Zanga would send men upriver about a mile above the rocks, then walk overland until they were in position. At noon promptly, they would begin to advance toward the rocks, making noise by yelling, banging on their shields with spears and machetes, and clanging or rattling whatever came to hand. Challenger and Malone would space themselves about 150 yards apart in the line of beaters, hoping that if the cat broke back through them, it would expose itself within range for a shot. Otherwise, the spearmen and archers would have to hope for a kill before it got into their line.

Malone was reluctant to leave Veronica, but she practically ordered him to do so, saying that Finn and Assai would provide more than ample care for her, and Finn was armed in case the cat came into the village. In a way, Malone was relieved, for he had a flush of adrenalin run through him in a way that he had generally not experienced. This was man's work, and high adventure. That in him which was male responded on a visceral level, and he made a wry mental note that this time, he would be a participant in life, not a bystander and recorder of it. That felt good. In fact, it felt really good, and having a fair maiden to return to, hopefully as a valiant hero, was even better. He felt more alive than he had in some time.

Roxton would station himself in the more "likely" ravine, where the cat might prefer the added cover and shade. He would hide himself and fire if he saw a suitable target.

The other ravine remained a possibility, though, and there was no white man to guard it. Grudgingly, Roxton decided to ask Marguerite to cover that escape route. Jacoba sensed his hesitancy to expose his woman to such danger, and called over two stout warriors armed with heavy spears of the sort sometimes called, "Zagaya". He bragged that these were "tigreros", Indians famed for their bravery and skill at following the powerful cats into long grass, ready to take jaguars on the blades of their spears, placing the butt of the weapon against the ground to absorb the shock of a cat weighing several hundred pounds impacting onto the steel.

Jacoba assured Roxton that if the jaguar got past Marguerite's rifle shot or was only wounded, these stalwarts would protect her. And they knew how to wait quietly and stay concealed until the time for confrontation had come. "They are 'valientes', " Jacoba promised, making Challenger wonder how it was that so many tribes on the Plateau spoke some Spanish or Portugeuse words. Surely, in the past, there had been routes off the mesa, and there had been interchanges between people here and below, in the "normal" world.

At noon by his gold Swiss watch, Roxton began listening for the clamor, but the line was too far away for sound to reach him at once. He closed the watch, returned it to his pocket, and leaned against a tree heavy enough to conceal him. He could see through a fork in the trunk and the lowest left-hand branch, and the tree had no ants to annoy him. It was as good a place to wait as any. He checked the magazine and chamber of his .318, loaded this time with softnose ammunition, and resigned himself to waiting.

Half a mile above the rock outcropping, Challenger also checked his watch, put it away, and lifted his .450 double-barelled rifle. He waved down the line to Malone , who waved back. A Jaguar Knight in charge of the hunt motioned with his spear, and the line moved forward, making the most noise possible. The dogs spaced along the line howled and bayed now, having scented the jaguar. It was indeed here! The hunt was on! Challenger hoped that Malone had understood his stress on the need to shoot the cat in the head. This was not the right way in most cases, as the shape of the skull offered too many slopes and planes for a bullet to hit dead-on and penetrate properly. The forehead was low and the head was a small target on a charging cat. Yet, Challenger feared that unless the brain was destroyed or the spine severed, the activated electronic controls installed by Gloop would pulse and control the muscles, driving the jaguar onward in spite of lethal wounds. Only a central nervous system hit or too much loss of blood would stop the cat, and it was known to be savage. Challenger hoped that a spearman might hold it on the blade of his weapon for a moment, allowing him to step around and get a side shot at the head and neck. If this didn't happen, someone would probably be killed before the cat succumbed.

After an interval, Roxton heard the baying of the dogs, then the thumping of spears on shields, and surmised that the jaguar must be moving out ahead of the line of beaters. He turned the Mauser system safety of his Westley-Richards rifle to the "off" position and began intently scanning the ravine, paying extra attention to the greenery along the edges. Cats like cover, and unless hurried, the jaguar might not expose himself by taking the easy route along the floor of the deep gully.

Some moments later, he saw a faint, almost fluid, series of motions along the edge of the gully, some three feet below the rim. He slunk down below the trunk of his tree, hat off, exposing just enough of his head to peek out through the fork already described.

Two minutes later, the grass was violently agitated as the approaching animal moved toward the floor for faster passage, and Roxton stepped out and raised his rifle as he heard a series of angry grunts, probably as the beast scented him, the wind moving gently up the ravine.

He swung his sights on the moving object, ready to press trigger as the animal broke cover. The range would be no more than 30 yards, and that meant that he'd have time for one precise shot: there would be no time to cycle the rifle bolt to feed a second cartridge from the magazine to the chamber. A charging cat moves fast. Roxton had no figures on the speed of a jaguar charge, and in any event. such attacks tend to be close range ambushes, with no real distance for the cat to cover. But he knew that lions can charge a hundred yards in about six seconds. Jaguars would be comparable or quicker at close quarters, more like a leopard: nothing but jungle or brush there, then a screaming ball of yellow and black fury in one's face, the teeth and forearm claws hooking into and shredding one's flesh, the rear claws sweeping up to disembowel the human victim.

The time had come. Roxton took a whirling step, bringing him fully clear of the tree trunk, rifle coming up to lock on target as the animal broke cover. It was a wild pig!

Thirty yards away, the boar, which was of some species much larger than the fierce white-lipped peccary, saw Roxton, and went straight for him. The pig probably weighed as much as the big jaguar, and was gnashing long, sharp tusks, popping his powerful jaws in rage.

Roxton shot, cursing the luck that had brought a pig to bay instead of the man-eater. The jaguar would certainly hear the shot and divert. BLAM! spoke the .318, and the walls of the gully contained enough of the muzzle blast to further assault Roxton's ears, which hadn't quit ringing from the previous day's gunfire in the slavers' cavern.

The pig, shot through the heart, tumbled, flipped itself upright, and again made straight for the hunter. Roxton had learned on the bloody tutorial fields of Flanders and at Ypres how to cycle a rifle bolt rapidly, and he managed to reload before the boar reached him. He shot almost straght down between the shoulders, being on slightly higher ground, and, its spine smashed by the 250 grain softnosed bullet, the pig dropped with the suddenness of a guillotine blade. It still thrashed briefly, the back broken, but the spinal cord not severed.

The blood gushing from the animal was dark arterial fluid, and the end was surely near, but the boar tried his best the move his forequarters toward Roxton. The rear quarters were useless, the wound being disabling below the shoulders.

Roxton stepped smartly to the side and placed a final shot into the bold pig's brain, and ended the contest. He cycled the bolt and cautiously prodded the pig's body with the rifle muzzle, being careful to approach from behind and above the animal. No response, and its eyes were glazing in death. Roxton sighed with relief and the release of tension. He had seen men attacked by boars when thrown from their mounts while "pig-sticking" in India, and the results weren't pretty. Even if the man lived, he was sometimes horribly scarred for life, and the story that circulated in officers' messes was that the pig would first go for the groin, ruining the hunter's hopes of reproduction, even if he survived. It was generally agreed that one thing that a man must strive to not do in life was to place himself within reach of an angry wild boar.

No novice hunter, Roxton was instinctively placing fresh Kynoch cartridges in the magazine of his rifle, sweeping the ravine with his eyes, in faint hope of seeing the jaguar. It was not in sight, and he stepped back behind his tree, hoping that the cat might not be able to distinguish between the report of a modern rifle and the clangor of the beaters. If it hadn't placed the source of the shot, the jaguar might come on a bit further, maybe not even connecting the dead boar with a hunter when it saw the carcass.

Such was not to be: he detected a faint rippling of the grass, and a flash of black fur as the jaguar went smoothly up the right side of the gully and over the top. The range was at least a hundred yards, and the cat moved so fast that there was no time for even a snap shot, fired as much in hope as in faith that the bullet would connect. Also, a shot in that direction would endanger the oncoming men.

Roxton raced down the gully until he found a sloping side that he could climb and when on the bank, looked back toward the line of beaters. They were just coming into sight, and he recognized the hats of Challenger and Malone. The cat was not moving their way. Swinging his eyes right, he finally detected motion in the grass and Spirit Jaguar burst from cover briefly, then swerved toward the other nullah, as Roxton now subconciously thought of the deep gullies.

One of the Indians in the other nullah had heard the shots, and climbed out to see what he could. All agreed that Roxton had probably killed the cat as expected. Instead, he saw the movement of the animal through low cover, and went rapidly back down and spoke softly to the woman and the other spearman, addressing the white huntress.

"Ma-greet! Your man not kill Spirit Jaguar. Jaguar come here now, fast. Get ready to shoot!"

Roxton raced toward Marguerite and the others, but saw that he would be unable to reach them before the savage cat did. He shouted a warning, and kept running in hopes of arriving in time to help if the jaguar began mauling a spearman.

Marguerite and the others fell back behind cover until the jaguar reached the embankment, then she popped out just as the cat began its descent down the wall of the gully. It would pass to the right of her party, not come directly at them, giving her a shot at the animal's head, just as she'd hoped.

Unfortunately, one of the spearmen, Xla'Tluc by name, ran from behind a clump of reeds directly at the jaguar, yelling a challenge mixed with Zanga obscentities.

The cat immediately swapped ends and went for Xla'Tluc, who ignored Marguerite's cry for him to get down so that she could shoot.

Spirit Jaguar and Xla'Tluc came together with a crash of mighty muscle and sinew on steel as the powerful cat slammed into the spear blade, driven forward by the Indian's brawny arms. The impact of the three hundred pound feline drove Xla'Tluc back a good two feet. He staggered, but kept his footing, and tried to lower the butt of the spear to halt the jaguar's rearward shove.

The other Indian, seeing this, sprang past Marguerite and rammed his spear into the animal's chest.

"Hau!" he shouted. "My spear has drunk the demon's blood!" But the jaguar rolled powerfully to the left, tripping Xla'Tluc over a cactus, and pulling free of the blade in its chest. In a flash, it turned to the second Indian, ripped the wooden shaft clear of his hands, and sprang on him. In seconds, before anyone could react, Spirit Jaguar had bitten through the man's elbow, severing the arm. Spirit Jaguar shifted his teeth to the hapless warrior's shoulder and Marguerite heard the scapula snap like a matchstick. The rear feet had been brought up to disembowel the doomed man, and the jaguar, teeth crunching like the jaws of Hell, now seized onto the dying Indian's throat. The spine cracked and the struggling man began a disjointed flapping, uttering awful cries for a few seconds. Then, he lay still.

Spirit Jaguar spun and was about to leap on Xla'Tluc, who was fumbling to pick up his spear. He was half stunned from his fall, and cactus spines in his feet made him stumble as he reached the fallen spear.

Marguerite stepped forward and aimed at the base of the cat's skull at a right oblique angle. She put the gold foresight of her .275 Rigby where she wanted and pulled the trigger. The rifle recoiled into her shoulder socket, and the 175 grain bullet, traveling at some 2500 feet per second, slammed into hide, bone, and brain. Spirit Jaguar dropped, his brain blown loose and the eyes propelled from their sockets. The limbs still tried to move the animal, and Marguerite shot again, this time into the spine. On the heels of her shot came the CRASH! of John Roxton's .318 from the bank above. The cat now dropped, with only an occasional twitch as seemingly random muscles contracted, rather like fresh frog legs twitching in a saucepan when the tendons haven't been severed.

Roxton scrambled down the slope and checked the beast, then, seeing that it was clearly dead, embraced Marguerite briefly. They helped Xla'Tluc to a flat rock and sat him down. He had bleeding scratches from a swipe of the cat's claws, and the cactus spines in his feet kept him from standing.

Above, Challenger, Malone, and the Indians who had been driving Spirit Jaguar before them drew even with the others and came down to ensure that the devil cat was indeed dead.

Challenger drew his Bowie knife and began picking at the sources of the twitching muscles. He located several electrodes, and having read Gloop's treatise, realized that these were still powered by the strange collar, charged by solar rays. He located the wires connecting the collar to the brain stem, and gave a mighty upward jerk with the false edge of his knife's nine-inch blade, snapping the wires. The quivering of the dead cat's muscles immediately stopped. All sat back with sighs of relief.

Roxton and Challenger turned to the wounded Indian, and while Challenger sloshed water from his canteen on the wounds and tied a scarf above the wound to act as a compression bandage, Roxton took out his pocketknife. This was what was generally termed an officer's knife, with several useful tools in addition to the true blades. It was the equivalent of Finn's Victorinox , although it had antler handle scales and nickle silver bolsters and liners instead of the plastic scales and aluminum liners that made Finn's advanced model so lightweight for its size. Indeed, Roxton's English knife was much like the Victorinox of his day, except that his knife had a fancier antler handle in lieu of the plain wood of the Swiss knife of that time. (Victorinox didn't use their famous red handle and aluminum liners until 1951.)

Roxton recalled how Finn had taken the little tweezers from their recess in the handle of her knife and gently prised the grenade fragment from his calf following the incident in Burton's quarters, and wished for tweezers now. He had none, but the sharp point on the small blade of his knife sufficed to extract most of the spines from Xla'tluc's foot and ankle. The remaining ones would have to wait until they reached the village and Finn, who would patiently remove any remaining fragments. Marguerite also had tweezers in her kit there.

"Shall we skin the animal now?" asked Malone. "If it sits too long in this heat, the fur will begin to 'slip'".

Challenger was studying the faint glow of the skin. He suggested taking the whole animal to the village and conducting a proper dissection, to learn what had been done to alter the animal. Willing hands lashed the dead jaguar to a pole chopped in the nearby jungle, and the party left for the Zanga huts, carrying the dead cat and their own wounded warrior and his expired companion.  
Of course, they also took Roxton's boar. Meat was always welcome at the tribe's cooking fires...

The party eventually returned to the village, where the dead Indian's relatives were overcome with grief. After expressing sympathy, Challenger, Roxton, Marguerite, and Malone joined Finn and Veronica and filled them in on what had transpired.

The man called Xla'tluc was carried in, and Marguerite got her tweezers and she and Finn spent a few minutes plucking out the remaining cactus spines, then Challenger disinfected the wounds, including the claw marks. Xla'Tluc was proud of these, which would be seen as a badge of courage among his people.

Urgent needs having been tended to, Challenger and Finn examined the dead jaguar, and after studying various samples, Challenger determined that the animal glowed because the collar had projected sunlight onto its hide, which had apparently been spray-painted with a reflective substance. This, and the electrodes, caused him to make caustic comments about the sort of scientist who would use animals to further his ends in this barbaric manner.

After the necropsy, they took the carcass of the jaguar to an anthill, and left it to be cleaned by the ants. Chief Jacoba and, especially, Xma'Klee, wanted the Zanga to see that the animal had been mortal, and that its dead flesh would be eaten by ants, vultures, and other scavengers, and not return as a ghost to stalk the tribe.

The explorers cleaned their guns and packed for the trip home. They decided to stay the night in huts provided by Jacoba, to attend the dead man's funeral. This was important, lest they offend their hosts.

The next morning, the girls gathered in Veronica's hut and Assai insisted that Marguerite and Finn tell her and the chief's blonde wife and ma-Dook's future sister-in-law what they had been taught to please men while being trained by Burton and his minions.

"What did you have to do?" she insisted. "Would these postures you learned really please men?"

Assured that this would certainly be the case with a great many men, the Zanga girls giggled, soon infecting Finn and Marguerite - not to mention Veronica - with their gaiety. After much pestering, Finn, Marguerite, and Ta'leea agreed to demonstrate the positions they'd had to assume on hearing their captors' commands. 

Rugs and blankets were laid on the floor of the hut, and Veronica was propped up in bed to see the show. The three girls who would perform stripped to their underwear, or in Ta'leea's case, a brief loincloth, and Marguerite had the Victrola gramophone found in the slavers' cave brought in, along with records playing Arabic music. Veronica and the other spectators exchanged teasing comment with the former slave girls, and various postures were demonstrated to applause and intakes of breath. All agreed that these actions would indeed excite men, and the demonstrators coached the others, save the wounded Veronica, in going through the motions. Veronica was frankly impressed with how lovely and sensuous her friends were when seen in this new light, and wondered if she would do as well when she eventually tried out these moves on the unsuspecting Ned Malone. She blushed, thinking that this was an incentive to heal soon. If anything would overcome the reporter's shyness and make him reach for her when she wanted, this would!

Outside, almost ready to leave, Challenger and Roxton walked toward the hut, but stopped when they heard the giggling and laughter. Malone came over and told them that he had been ordered to stay away from the hut for a couple of hours, while "womens' business" was being discussed. He had decided to make notes in his journal.

Roxton turned to Challenger and said, "George, I don't know about you, but I think I'll heed their warning. If we interrupt them, the girls will just think of some work that we should be doing, anyway."

"Agreed. I think we should go fishing, and I haven't packed the tackle yet, anyway. What do you say to trying to furnish some peacock bass for lunch?" And so, they had armed themselves with rifles and rods and reels and wandered down to the river.

Back in the hut, the women sipped fruit juices, and set up the gramophone. Arabic music began and Marguerite demonstrated Middle Eastern dance, clad only in deep jade green bikini briefs and twirling a yellow and green scarf, sometimes clacking two gold coins in her fingers. She was consummately skilled, exquisite in grace and style, and "ooohs" and "ahhs" greeted her performance. Sa'eera stared openly, her mouth agape in awe. Marguerite, who had had to be goaded and teased into dancing, flushed with embarrassment, but also with a certain pride, as she realized that she was being genuinely admired by women who were themselves quite sensual. Fearful of ridicule, she was instead praised and congratulated. She felt the warmth of companionship in her veins, and was greatly relieved. She had been so afraid of humilating herself...but she refused to reveal where she had originally acquired these skills, or why.

Then, an idea struck her. "Finn," she said sweetly, "You insisted that I dance. Why don't you show us that rock and roll style from your time?"

It was Finn's turn to be embarrassed, but she was, like Marguerite, hounded into performing. Finally, partially out of vanity, she slipped off her bra to show how her breasts could be made to bounce enticingly with careful shoulder motion, and "grooved" as best she could to the only music they had.

This, too, much impressed the audience, including Veronica, who motioned Finn to her bed and hugged her warmly. "Finn, don't be embarrassed, "Veronica insisted, "You were 'SO HOT', as you'd say!" 

Coloring, Finn thanked her. One girl was on the verge of telling Finn to show how Nikki had knelt by Burton and excited him and had added a few subtle erotic enhancements that she hadn't shown here to her performances on the mat during training. But after thinking about it, she remembered how this had in fact, distracted Burton, when he might have otherwise been cruel to Marguerite or other girls. She kept her silence, knowing that insulting Finn, of whom she was jealous, would only incur scorn from the other women. And so, Finn was spared what she had feared most from this session.

The girls feasted on melons and strawberries and gossipped until the anglers were back and rapped on the door to announce fresh fish for lunch. The Zanga women excused themselves, saying that they had duties elsewhere at mealtimes, and again praised Finn and Marguerite for swallowing their discomfort and showing them what they had had to do in captivity.

"You endured much shame in learning these motions," said Assai, "but we women here will use this knowledge to impress our men, and these new skills will make our homes happier. So, good will now come of what began as evil." She tittered. "And Father's new blonde wife will now be even more exciting to him. You can count on our chief being grateful to you. He will be much friendlier in future, I think." And all again giggled at the thought of the glum, egotistical chief watching Sa'eera as she "accidentally" let him see her pose in certain ways or asking him to tell her if he liked the new dances she had learned from her friends.

"If I tell him that it was you who taught me to dance this way, Ma-greet, Jacoba will probably send couriers to you with emeralds," laughed Sa'eera.

"I''ll believe that when I see it," said Marguerite as she finished dressing. "Come Finn, let's help Veronica pack and get home. You and V. need to check on your garden." And she smirked, although really a little glad that they had joined in the clamor for her to show off her belly dancing achievements. It felt good to be admired by other women for a change, and she was rather proud of how well she did certain things.

And so, it came to pass that, after eating, the explorers and two warriors to help carry Veronica's litter, left for the Treehouse.

Home at last, the group gave food, Maria Theresa thaler coins, and trinkets to their Zanga friends who had helped carry Veronica, and bid them farewell. Then, they unpacked and Finn checked the garden, with Veronica calling down advice from the balcony.

The others having showered, John pulled Marguerite into the stall with him, ostensibly to "save water", and Finn dryly commented that they should at least need less water this time than the last when she'd seen them together there. "No mud is good mud," she razzed, and Marguerite blushed scarlet, recalling the previous occasion.

Veronica was seated near the kitchen, where Finn changed her bandages, dressing the wound as she did so, washing it out with red wine from a bottle that she opened with the corkscrew on her Swiss pocketknife. The remainder of the bottle was set aside with another for dinner, which George and Malone were making. Ned had turned out to be a surprisingly good cook with a bit of instruction and practice. They had shot several tinamou and some doves on the way home, and Finn had brought up spinach and potatoes from the garden.

When George announced that the meal was nearly ready, Finn rose from Veronica's side and poured the wine into Marguerite's fine crystal glasses. George commented that drinking from those glasses tonight would celebrate a more peaceful meal than was the case the last time his lips had touched them. The wine, well suited to dark-meated game birds, was Chateau Margaux. Marguerite had certainly not skimped with Shanghai Xan's money when equipping the expedition...

Thinking of Marguerite, George remembered her and John's late arrival for that last dinner, and looked around anxiously for the Roxtons. Fortunately, they were merely sitting together on the balcony, and came readily when called to table.

When all was ready, George offered a toast: "God save the king!" and they lifted their glasses.

"That's okay," quipped Malone. "I'll drink to that!" And the others smiled at the American's comment.

"Oh, Ned," said Veronica. "Finn and I aren't Limeys, either. You can offer the next toast."

"In that case, to beautiful women, although no others compare to those present tonight!"

"Now, there's a universal toast," laughed John Roxton, lifting his glass.

Talk was of the past few days, then turned to the garden, when they needed to hunt next, and how much material the girls needed to make new lingerie and something that Finn said was called a "sun dress" that she thought would look good on each of the women. "You guys will like this style, too," she winked.

Then, the dishes washed by John, with Marguerite drying, they drifted into groups and Finn told Ned that she wanted his help in writing a story about the hunt for the jaguar. She had been polishing her writing style recently, proud of her growing skill with words.

Coffee was served, with sliced oranges from their small grove, and Veronica finally asked Ned if he'd help her to her room. Finn joined them, holding one of her best friend's arms, and Ned the other.

When she was settled on her bed, Veronica hugged Finn and told her good night. Ned also said good night, and turned to leave.

"Ned, stay!"

"Well, bow, wow!"

"No, Ned, I mean it. Please stay. I may need help during the night. Or something. We need to talk, anyway, alone."

"Oh," he said, "'we need to talk'. Do you know how those words sound to a man? What have I done?"

"Nothing, silly. I just want to have some time by ourselves." She patted the bed. "Sit here beside me. I don't want to have to strain my ears to hear you." She winked, and Ned knew that he wasn't in the doghouse, after all. He walked over and shut the door and went to her side.

Finn and Challenger talked a bit longer with the Roxtons, then excused themselves, going up to their room. The Roxtons went out onto the balcony and looked up at the full moon rising above the primeval jungle. In the middle distance,a large carnosaur roared.

As Malone started to sit down on the bed, Veronica got up. Malone started to stop her, thinking of her wound. But she stopped him, telling him that everything is fine. She didn't need help. He sat back down and looked at her. God, he thought. She's so beautiful. How we ever found each other will always remain a mystery to me.

"I have something to show you," said Veronica, mysteriously.

"Oh? Like what," asked Malone, quizzically.

Veronica went down on all fours, repeating the same poses Finn and Marguerite had shown her and the rest of the girls. The more she got into it, the more Malone looked at her. He couldn't believe that she was doing this. Of all things, especially with a shoulder wound.

"What are you doing! You're hurt! Here, let me help you up," yelped Malone. He started to get up.

"Stop, Ned! I'm okay, really. Please just let me do this for you...for us. The look on your face is worth it. I'm tired of feeling like your tomboy sister, while Marguerite and Finn are so sensual, so utterly female, especially when they turn on the charm. You wouldn't believe how impressive they were today, showing us girls how to do this. I felt so...gawky. Let me entertain you? I need to know that I can. I'll get better as I heal. Am I too awkward?"

"But... But..."

He looked at her sitting back down on the bed. He finally realized that she was showing her insecurity. Something she normally wouldn't do. But he just smiled and nodded. Reassuring her that everything was allright.

Veronica started again, not bothering to pay much attention to what Malone was saying. She knew he would like it, deep down. She just had to press him. He stopped talking and started to watch. He actually started to like it the more he watched. As he did so, Veronica started to move closer. Though she grimaced from time to time, she kept it to herself so as not to stop.

She stopped a few inches from him, looking up at him. He looked down, sweat on his upper lip. He quivered a moment and then composed himself. He stood up and reached his hand out to Veronica. She took it and stood up. He held onto her, tightly. "God, I want you," said Veronica.

"Your tellin me," replied Ned, softly.

They both kissed each other passionately, not wanting to let go of each other. Malone let go and turned them both around. He picked Veronica up and somewhat threw her on the bed so as not to hurt her shoulder to much. She still grimaced trying to hide it. 

"Are you ok? I didn't hurt you, did I?" asked Malone, concerned.

"Ned, shut up. Kiss me!"

They started kissing again, this time caressing each other vigorously. Malone ran his hands up and down her legs, working his way up. He moved in between her legs and started to massage between her legs. He kissed her neck at the same time, hearing her moan. Malone put that away in safe storage for next time. He finally realized how wet she was, and he noticed that he liked it a lot. He got up from her and took off his vest and boots. Veronica watched him, excited.

He came back down on top of her and started kissing her neck again. Malone worked his way down, until he took Veronica's skirt off. He threw it into the corner, and looked at her. "Oh God," said an excited Malone.

"Tell me about it, stud," replied Veronica.

"Take off your top. Now," ordered Malone.

She complied, making sure she took her sweet time. He looked at her enticingly. Wanting her more and more, with each move of her hands. She finally took it off and playfully threw it at Malone. He caught it and smelled it, closing his eyes.

He quickly took his shirt off and threw it on the floor. He went back on top of her, happy to do so. He caressed her breasts and then her legs. Each time, massaging her area. Veronica moaned loudly, loving every second of it. Malone came back to kiss her, savoring the kiss. He fondled her breasts some more and then kissed her again. They rolled over now, Veronica on top. She kissed his chest and then his neck.

How I love this man, she thought. I'd do anything for him. Even if it's the last thing I do.

She slowly got back down on the floor teasing him. She started doing the poses again. She moved toward him again, taking off his pants. She pulled them off and looked down. Her eyes widened, excited. She got back on top of him and kissed him. They rolled again, now with Malone on top.

They stayed like that until both climaxed. Breathing rapidly, they both collapsed onto each other. They looked at each other intently, glad they had experienced this.

"I love you," said a breathless Malone. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," replied Veronica.

She ran her hands through his hair, resting it on his cheek. They kissed again, and closed their eyes. Malone secretly opened them again. He wanted to watch her fall asleep. He always thought of how beautiful she was when she slept.

Veronica rolled over and Malone slipped up against her, feeling her warmth. He stroked his hands up and down her body again, remembering what had just occurred. He fondled her breasts some more and then kissed her shoulder. He smelled her and then made her turn over again. He got on top of her again, enjoying it.

"Promise me, you'll never leave me again," said Malone.

Veronica crinkled her nose, quizzically looking at him. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "I've never left you. Well, except that one time. But that was on accident. Technically, you left me."

He paused, thinking about it.

"True. I guess that's true. But still. Let's promise to each other then, not to leave each other. I don't want to lose you again. Ever."

"Agreed."

They kissed again, perfectly content with each other. They could spend hours together not talking, just the two of them alone.

Marguerite and Roxton were still happily enjoying each others company on the balcony. Watching the moon rise high in the nightly sky, overlooking every corner of the plateau they had been living on for the past three years or so. Without saying a word they had stood there motionlessly. Roxton had both his arms around Marguerite, who was standing in front of him on the balcony.

Listening to all the nightly sounds slowly coming alive with every passing minute. Both of them could appreciate the relative quietness of the plateau after dark. It felt calm and peaceful, like a weight was lifted off of their shoulders, the weight of all that had gone on in the past weeks.

"Why don't I go and get us a nightcap", Roxton suddenly said, breaking the silence they had been enjoying thus far. 

"I think we both could do with one right about now", he added.

With a little nod of her head, Marguerite agreed with Roxton's suggestion and so he made his way over to the kitchen to get them both a glass of Portuguese port. But by the time he got back to the balcony, Marguerite was no longer standing in the spot where he had left her. In fact, she wasn't anywhere to be found.

Not wanting to alarm or disturb the other couples, Roxton decided not to call out her name and just go and look for her. He guessed right in the first try when he went to look for her in her bedroom. Sure enough there she was, staring out of the small window that was located in a corner of her room. She was staring into blank space and only noticed Roxton coming in when he was close enough to touch her right shoulder. She startled, but quickly recovered herself.

"I didn't hear you come in", she said looking up at him with a faint smile.

Roxton could see that something was bothering her. She was only half undressed, standing in front of him in her kaki pants and fashionable bra. He didn't have to press her in to telling him what was wrong, as she opened up to him herself. She had gone to her room to slip into something more comfortable as a surprise for Roxton, but when she had taken off her blouse and looked at herself in the mirror, she noticed the red lashes on her back from the whipping she had undergone while imprisoned by Avery Burton.

"Does it hurt?" Roxton asked.

"Not really!" Marguerite replied, giving the lashes another look through the mirror.

"But they are a reminder of the endurance Finn and I have gone through with those slavers".

Roxton turned her face and held it between his hands.

"Don't you worry", he said, "those will heal up nicely and fade over time, as will your memories of the past weeks".

"Thank you", Marguerite said gratefully, Roxton always knew the right words to say at the right time.

"I'm sorry, I've ruined the night now haven't I", she said looking up at Roxton.

"I had a surprise for you, I've learned some sexy moves while Finn and I were being trained as slaves by Avery Burton. I wanted to show them to you, but I don't think I'm up for that tonight"

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll share them when you're ready and believe me I can't wait to see your moves", Roxton said with a big grin on his face.

Marguerite couldn't help but smile, God how she loved this man, more then she ever thought possible.

"And Marguerite", Roxton said, "you haven't ruined this night at all. After all, the night is still young"

"You know what, why don't you go and slip in something more comfortable", he added, "and I'll be right back".

When Roxton came back, Marguerite had slipped into a blue satin nightgown. She waited for him on the bed and watched as he put down candles across the room, lighting each of them. The candles gave the room a warm, yellowish glow and set a romantic mood, just as Roxton had intended. As Roxton looked up at Marguerite to see if she approved of his romantic guesture, he saw her smiling warmly at him, a better sign of approval he could not have gotten!

When he was finished, Roxton stripped down to his undies and laid himself on the bed, next to Marguerite. While he stroked her long brown hair, he kissed her on the mouth and thought about how much he loved this woman. Because he didn't want to push things any further this night, he just took her in his arms and held her until finally she fell asleep. A content smile playing on her lips, promising happy dreams and no nightmares.

"Don't you worry my love, I will never let anything happen to you", he whispered to her. Two minutes later he fell asleep himself.

Challenger and Finn entered their room, and George hung his coat in the closet, their rifles and packs having been brought up earlier.

Finn sat on the bed and extended her legs for him to pull off her boots, an endearing habit of late with the couple. She stood, undressed, and dropped her clothes in the hamper across the room. She took George's shirt as he headed toward the closet with it, sniffed, grimaced at him, and pointedly took the shirt to the hamper, also.

She wore only black bikini panties, which she adjusted for fit before walking over to where George sat on the foot of the bed, removing his own boots.

"I want you to take off the rest," she said, watching his eyes carefully as he stripped her. She took the panties to the hamper, and added, "Washday tomorrow, big-time."

"Excuse me for a moment, Darling," said Challenger. "Nature calls." And he went down the hall to the restroom.

Finn opened her pack and took out both pair of handcuffs. She walked to her dresser, clicking the cuffs open and shut, cherishing the frisson of fear and arousal that she felt on handling them again, contemplating how she'd feel when she first handed these bracelets to George and turned, offering her wrists for him to apply them. She shivered, knowing in the core of her being that there was indeed a portion of Nikki the Slave Girl lurking in her psyche, relishing the thought of herself in erotic submission to her lover. But to him alone...

Furtively looking back, she heard George's footsteps approaching. The time for decision had come. She closed the cuffs, pulled out a drawer, and hid both pair beneath some shirts. She would take Marguerite a set tomorrow, and in a week or two, she would sit Challenger down and talk to him awhile before she asked him to role play with her. The time wasn't right tonight, with what had happened too close to all of them. George would probably need some time to adjust to the idea of handcuffing her, anyway. Finn straightened , looking into the mirror above the dresser. She bent one knee, lifting her hair with her hands behind her head, and played with the blonde tresses, pretending not to notice that George was back in the room and watching.

Stretching luxuriously, she strolled provocatively to the bed, trying to emulate Marguerite's languid, sultry gait.  
She rolled on the bed, coming up on her knees, thighs spread wide, shoulders back, breasts out, her hands palm-up on her knees in a pose of naked, pleading supplication.

"How do I look?" she wanted to know. "Tell me the truth. Burton said this would make us girls look good on the block when we were sold."

"The truth is, he was right," Challenger replied. "I can promise you, if I was a sheik looking to buy a girl and saw you, he'd soon have my money and I'd have you. You definitely raise the male blood pressure."

She ran her hands over her body, moving as if excited, and demanded, "So, am I totally slutty, or what?"

"Arousing, very. Slutty? No, Finn, I've never thought of you in derogatory terms. I take it this is the sort of thing that you ladies were taught to do in that training room that you mentioned?"

"Yes, this and more. I even had to dance for them." She slid off the bed and showed him what she meant. After she'd demonstrated how well she moved in this manner, Finn deliberately twitched her breasts a few times, noting with satisfaction the effect it had on Challenger. That motion invariably excited those men fortunate enough to see it...

"Are my boobs okay? I know men usually like bigger ones. If my civilization hadn't collapsed around my ears when I was so young, I could have gotten them "done" and look really hot for you."

"Nicole," Challenger said gently, " you underestimate yourself. You're not small-busted; you're medium. I love the shape and firmness of your breasts. They'll stay youthful longer than if they were larger, and I've never had a preference for women whose udders would win a prize ribbon at the county fair. You're just fine, there and all over. I have meant every compliment that I have ever given you. You are lovely. Men like Avery Burton don't enslave unattractive girls. If he hadn't thought you'd bring a pretty penny when sold, he wouldn't have taken you."

Finn thought, then nodded at this logic. "I just want so much to be the best I can for you, George. You deserve more than the illiterate bimbo that I was when you rescued me. After I'd (bleeping) ROBBED you! And Marguerite..."

"Not to worry, Darling. You weren't an 'illiterate bimbo', anyway...just a beautiful girl who hadn't yet learned to read and write. You've managed that since, very well, indeed. I was amazed at your progress, and I'd never have let you in the lab if I didn't know you were exceptionally intelligent, too. "

He took her in his arms, sliding his hands carefully along her torso and down her buttocks, where his fingers described slow circles that brought goosebumps to her skin. He felt her nipples rise against his chest, and his loins responded to her excitement.

"George, I'm sorry that I was careless," she murmured. "I should never have let Marguerite and myself be taken. And the things that I did to please Burton! I've been such a tramp! Can you forgive me?"

"Darling, if there is any guilt to be borne, it is mine. I should have never left you girls alone."

"No, you thought you were keeping us safe. This was in no way your fault!"

"My point, exactly, nor was it yours. The blame lies squarely on the slavers and their greed and cruelty. To me, you are the heroine who probably saved Marguerite from Burton's full lust, or even worse things. You remain of astronomical importance, by which I mean that the sun rises and sets on you. That hasn't changed, not one iota. Don't you DARE feel guilty over what a low-life like Burton did to you."

Finn hugged him even closer, and he realized that she was crying, this tough survivor of circumstances so horrible that he dreaded to think about her life before they had met.

She managed a sound between a laugh and a sniffle. "Hey, Genius. The sun doesn't depend on me. It rises and sets on YOU. I'm honored to just warm your bed and hand you stuff in that lab where you create miracles."

"Finn, come here." He led her across the room to a circular wooden platform about a foot high. He had inset a rubber top the day before Assai had come to them for assistance, and he'd dodged her question about this item. "Do you know what this is?"

She shrugged. "A stand for a potted plant? For a lamp?"

No, my love," he teased," it is a pedestal; Finn's Pedestal. And I plan to put you on it whenever you doubt yourself or do something of which I'm especially proud. NOW, do you understand how I feel about you?" And he effortlessly picked her up and deposited her on the pedestal.

She looked into his eyes and realized that he was serious. "Oh, George! Oh, oh, you silly man! This is so SWEET of you!" She started to cry again, and blubbered in his ear, "I think you'd better carry me, Genius. I'm not sure I can walk right now. I just want to feel you deep inside me, so much that I can't find words for it. Oh, I love you so much. Take me to bed and just f-ck my brains out! You can't know how I longed for you these past days. Marguerite said I even called your name in my sleep!"

He carried her to bed, laid her down tenderly, and made love to her, doing all the things he knew she liked most, until Finn climaxed in the most intense orgasm that he had ever known her to have.

After, they lay molded to one another, talking quietly, and he asked if she still wanted a child by him.

Steeling herself to hear his reply, she whispered, "Yes, two. I'll settle for one, if that's what you choose. But I can handle it if you've decided that you don't think we should..mpff", for he had covered her mouth with his. 

He kissed her to silence, and then, "Nicole, lets' take six more months to be just us alone. Then, you can go off the Pill. I imagine that you'll 'gain weight' soon after. If you don't conceive, it won't be for lack of trying on my part!" And he pulled her to him, feeling the rapid beat of her heart as she rejoiced at his answer.

Later, they slept, Finn in front, pressed against him wherever she could fit flesh to flesh. When she woke, it was daylight, and she reached for George's watch on the nightstand, next to his Colt. Seven o'clock...She closed the watch and turned to him, taking his manhood in her hands, working magic with her fingers.

"Are you awake, lover?"

"I soon will be, if you keep that up, Finn. What time is it?"

"Sevenish. If you want to take advantage of me being close and naked, now is the moment. We have only an hour before Marguerite is stirring, and I want to be the best lay you ever had, in the meantime."

"What has Marguerite to do with it? She won't barge in on us," he protested.

"No, but I intend to 'barge in' on her, as soon as I'm sure she's really up."

Propped on an elbow now, George contemplated his partner. "Finn, we live our lives on this Plateau in daily peril, and you want to go to Marguerite's room this early, as well? Do you want me to get my .450 and back you up, in case she charges?"

He heard the ripple of her laughter. "No, I have an even better weapon in mind. I'll take her coffee. I'll bring you a cup on the way to her room. I want to let her know that I'm here for her if she wants to talk about what happened, or about anything else. At all. And I want to ask her to teach me to sew as well as she does."

"I think maybe we need each other. It takes someone like Marguerite and me to understand one another, I suspect. She's mellowing, anyway. Maybe I can aid the healing process. Do you mind? I'll only need an hour, maybe less, then I'm yours for the rest of the day."

Challenger kissed her and told her that she was even more wonderful than he'd realized. She reached for him, and they became one, lovers moving together in rhythm and grace.

After some 40 minutes, Finn rose, and washed from the ceramic basin on the window ledge. She brushed her hair, donned a pink blouse and short tan skirt, and sat on George's lap briefly, kissing, promising to return soon.

And it wasn't long before he smelled the aroma of coffee drifting up from the kitchen...

**The End  
**


End file.
